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FAIRY  PRINCE 
AND   OTHER  STORIES 


BY   THE   SAME  AUTHOR 


OLD-DAD 

PEACE  ON  EARTH,  GOOD-WILL  TO 
DOGS 

RAINY  WEEK 


E.    P.    BUTTON    &    COMPANY 


FAIRY    PRINCE 

AND   OTHER   STORIES 


AUTHOR   OF      MOLLY  MAKE-BELIEVE,        RAINY    WEEK,      ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

E.  P.  BUTTON  &  COMPANY 
681  FIFTH  AVENUE 


Copyright,  1922, 
By  E.  P.  Dutton  &  Company 

All  Rights  Reserved 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED 
STATES  OF  AMERICA 


fS 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


FAIRY  PRINCE  .     r.;     .-    w  ;.:      1 

THE  GAME  OF  THE  BE-WITCHMENTS  -.:  >:    59 

THE  BLINDED  LADY       .      .      .      .      .  .   Ill 

THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES  .:  >    155 

THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS  —  AND 
EVERYTHING 195 

THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP  .   245 


2128652 


FAIRY  PRINCE 


FAIRY    PRINCE 

IN  my  father's  house  were  many  fancies. 
Always,  for  instance,  on  every  Thanks 
giving  Day  it  was  the  custom  in  our 
family  to  bud  the  Christmas  tree. 

Young  Derry  Willard  came  from  Cuba. 
His  father  and  our  father  had  been  chums 
together  at  college.  None  of  us  had  ever 
seen  him  before.  We  were  very  much  ex 
cited  to  have  a  strange  young  man  invited 
for  Thanksgiving  dinner.  My  sister  Rosalee 
was  seventeen.  My  brother  Carol  was  eleven. 
I  myself  was  only  nine,  but  with  very  tall 
legs. 

Young  Derry  Willard  was  certainly  ex 
cited  when  he  saw  the  Christmas  tree.  Ex 
cited  enough,  I  mean,  to  shift  his  eyes  for 
at  least  three  minutes  from  my  sister  Rosalee's 
face.  Lovely  as  my  sister  Rosalee  was,  it 
had  never  yet  occurred  to  any  of  us,  I  think, 

[3] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

until  just  that  moment  that  she  was  old 
enough  to  have  perfectly  strange  young  men 
stare  at  her  so  hard.  It  made  my  father 
rather  nervous.  He  cut  his  hand  on  the 
carving-knife.  Nothing  ever  made  my 
mother  nervous. 

Except  for  father  cutting  his  hand  it 
seemed  to  be  a  very  nourishing  dinner.  The 
tomato  soup  was  pink  with  cream.  The  roast 
turkey  didn't  look  a  single  sad  bit  like  any 
one  you'd  seen  before.  There  was  plenty  of 
hard-boiled  egg  with  the  spinach.  The 
baked  potatoes  were  frosted  with  red  pepper. 
There  was  mince  pie.  There  was  apple  pie. 
There  was  pumpkin  pie.  There  were  nuts 
and  raisins.  There  were  gay  gold-paper 
bonbons.  And  everywhere  all  through  the 
house  the  funny  blunt  smell  of  black  coffee. 

It  was  my  brother  Carol's  duty  always  to 
bring  in  the  Christmas  tree.  By  some  strange 
mix-up  of  what  is  and  what  isn't  my  brother 
Carol  was  dumb — stark  dumb,  I  mean,  and 

[4] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


from  birth.  But  tho  he  had  never  found 
his  voice  he  had  at  least  never  lost  his 
shining  face.  Even  now  at  eleven  in  the 
twilightly  end  of  a  rainy  Sunday,  or  most  any 
day  when  he  had  an  earache,  he  still  let  mother 
call  him  "Shining  Face."  But  if  any  children 
called  him  "Shining  Face"  he  kicked  them. 
Even  when  he  kicked  people,  tho,  he  couldn't 
stop  his  face  shining.  It  was  very  cheerful. 
Everything  about  Carol  was  very  cheerful. 
No  matter,  indeed,  how  much  we  might  play 
and  whisper  about  gifts  and  tinsels  and  jolly- 
colored  candles,  Christmas  never,  I  think, 
seemed  really  probable  to  any  of  us  until  that 
one  jumpy  moment,  just  at  the  end  of  the 
Thanksgiving  dinner,  when,  heralded  by  a 
slam  in  the  wood-shed,  a  hoppytyskip  in  the 
hall,  the  dining-room  door  flung  widely  open 
on  Carol's  eyes  twinkling  like  a  whole  skyful 
of  stars  through  the  shaggy,  dark  branches  of 
a  young  spruce-tree.  It  made  young  Derry 
Willard  laugh  right  out  loud. 

[5] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Why,  of  all  funny  things!"  he  said.  "On 
Thanksgiving  Day!  Why,  it  looks  like  a 
Christmas  tree!" 

"It  is  a  Christmas  tree,"  explained  my  sister 
Rosalee  very  patiently.  My  sister  Rosalee 
was  almost  always  very  patient.  But  I  had 
never  seen  her  patient  with  a  young  man  be 
fore.  It  made  her  cheeks  very  pink.  "It  is  a 
Christmas  tree,"  she  explained.  "That  is,  it's 
going  to  be  a  Christmas  tree!  Just  the  very 
first  second  we  get  it  'budded'  it'll  start  right 
in  to  be  a  Christmas  tree!" 

"Budded?"  puzzled  young  Derry  Willard. 
Really  for  a  person  who  looked  so  much 
like  the  picture  of  the  Fairy  Prince  in  my 
best  story-book,  he  seemed  just  a  little  bit 
slow. 

"Why,  of  course,  it's  got  to  be  budded!"  I 
cried.  "That's  what  it's  for!  That's " 

Instead  of  just  being  pink  patient  my  sister 
Rosalee  started  in  suddenly  to  be  dimply 
patient  too. 

[6] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


"It's  from  mother's  Christmas-tree  garden, 
you  know,"  she  went  right  on  explaining. 
"Mother's  got  a  Winter  garden — a  Christ 
mas-tree  garden!" 

"Father's  got  a  garden,  too!"  I  maintained 
stoutly.  "Father's  is  a  Spring  garden!  Reds, 
blues,  yellows,  greens,  whites!  From  France! 
And  Holland!  And  California!  And  Asia 
Minor!  Tulips,  you  know.  Buster's!  Oh, 
father's  garden  is  a  glory!"  I  boasted. 

"And  mother's  garden,"  said  my  mother 
very  softly,  "is  only  a  story." 

"It's  an  awfully  nice  story,"  said  Rosalee. 

• 

Young  Derry  Willard  seemed  to  like  stories. 

"Tell  it!"  he  begged. 

It  was  Rosalee  who  told  it.  "Why,  it  was 
when  Carol  was  born,"  she  said.  "It  was  on  a 
Christmas  eve,  you  know.  That's  why  mother 
named  him  Carol!" 

"We  didn't  know  then,  you  see" — inter 
rupted  my  mother  very  softly — "that  Carol 

[7] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

had  been  given  the  gift  of  silence  rather  than 
the  gift  of  speech." 

"And  father  was  so  happy  to  have  a  boy," 
dimpled  Rosalee,  "that  he  said  to  mother, 
'Well,  now,  I  guess  you've  got  everything  in 
the  world  that  you  want!'  And  mother  said, 
'Everything  —  except  a  spruce  forest!'  So 
father  bought  her  a  spruce  forest,"  said  Rosa- 
lee.  "That's  the  story!" 

"Oh,  my  dear!"  laughed  my  mother.  "That 
isn't  a  'story'  at  all!  All  you've  told  is  the 
facts!  It's  the  feeling  of  the  facts  that  makes 
a  story,  you  know!  It  was  on  my  birthday," 
glowed  mother,  "that  the  presentation  was  to 
be  made!  My  birthday  was  in  March!  I  was 
very  much  excited  and  came  down  to  break 
fast  with  my  hat  and  coat  on!  'Where  are 
you  going?'  said  my  husband." 

"Oh  -  -  Mother!"  protested  Rosalee. 
"  'Whither  away?'  was  what  you've  always 
told  us  he  said!" 

"  'Whither  away?'  of  course  was  what  he 
[8] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


said!"  laughed  my  mother.  "Why,  I'm 
going  to  find  my  spruce  forest!'  I  told  him. 
'And  I  can't  wait  a  moment  longer!  Is  it  the 
big  one  over  beyond  the  mountain?'  I  im 
plored  him.  'Or  the  little  grove  that  the 
deacon  tried  to  sell  you  last  year?' ' 

"And  they  never  budged  an  inch  from  the 
house!"  interrupted  Rosalee.  "It  was  the 
funniest " 

Over  in  the  corner  of  the  room  my  father 
laughed  out  suddenly.  My  father  had  left 
the  table.  He  and  Carol  were  trying  very 
hard  to  make  the  spruce-tree  stand  upright 
in  a  huge  pot  of  wet  earth.  The  spruce-tree 
didn't  want  to  stand  upright.  My  father 
laughed  all  over  again.  But  it  wasn't  at  the 
spruce-tree.  "Well,  now,  wouldn't  it  have 
been  a  pity,"  he  said,  "to  have  made  a  per 
fectly  good  lady  fare  forth  on  a  cold  March 
morning  to  find  her  own  birthday  present?" 

My  mother  began  to  clap  her  hands.  It 
was  a  very  little  noise.  But  jolly. 

[9] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"It  came  by  mail!"  she  cried.  "My  whole 
spruce  forest!  In  a  package  no  bigger  than 
my  head!" 

"Than  your  rather  fluffy  head!"  corrected 
my  father. 

"Three  hundred  spruce  seedlings!"  cried 
my  mother.  "Each  one  no  bigger  than  a  wisp 
of  grass!  Like  little  green  ferns  they  were! 
So  tender!  So  fluffing!  So  helpless!" 

"Heigh-O!"  said  young  Derry  Willard. 
"Well,  I  guess  you  laughed — then !" 

When  grown-up  people  are  trying  to  re 
member  things  outside  themselves  I've  noticed 
they  always  open  their  eyes  very  wide.  But 
when  they  are  remembering  things  inside 
themselves  they  shut  their  ^T-e«  T^ry  ti2;ht. 
My  mother  shut  her  eyes  v,^  c^ht. 

"No — I  didn't  exactly  laugh,"  said  my 
mother.  "And  I  didn't  exactly  cry." 

"You  wouldn't  eat!"  cried  Rosalee.  "Not 
all  day,  I  mean!  Father  had  to  feed  you  with 
a  spoon!  It  was  in  the  wing-chair!  You  held 

[10] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


the  box  on  your  knees!  You  just  shone — and 
shone — and  shone!" 

"It  would  have  been  pretty  hard,"  said  my 
mother,  "not  to  have  shone  a — little!  To 
brood  a  baby  forest  in  one's  arms — if  only  for 
a  single  day — ?  Think  of  the  experience!" 
Even  at  the  very  thought  of  it  she  began  to 
shine  all  over  again!  "Funny  little  fluff  oj 
green,"  she  laughed,  "no  fatter  than  a  fern!" 
Her  voice  went  suddenly  all  wabbly  like  a 
preacher's.  "But,  oh,  the  glory  of  it!"  she 
said.  "The  potential  majesty!  Great  sweep 
ing  branches — !  Nests  for  birds,  shade  for 
lovers,  masts  for  ships  to  plow  the  great 
world's  waters — timbers  perhaps  for  cathe- 

•  i;^,  o^  V      o^  -"  ^ 

~als!    r^;4  [      shivered  my  mother.    "It  cer- 

{ 13 

tainly  gave  one  a  very  queer  feeling!  No 
woman  surely  in  the  whole  wide  world — 
except  the  Mother  of  the  Little  Christ — ever 
felt  so  astonished  to  think  what  she  had  in 
her  lap!" 

[11] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Young  Derry  Willard  looked  just  a  little 
bit  nervous. 

"Oh,  but  of  course  mother  couldn't  begin 
all  at  once  to  raise  cathedrals!"  I  hastened  to 
explain.  "So  she  started  in  raising  Christmas 
presents  instead.  We  raise  all  our  own 
Christmas  presents!  And  just  as  soon  as 
Rosalee  and  I  are  married  we're  going  to 
begin  right  away  to  raise  our  children's 
Christmas  presents  too!  Heaps  for  every 
body,  even  if  there  is  a  hundred!  Carol,  of 
course,  won't  marry  because  he  can't  propose! 
Ladies  don't  like  written  proposals,  father 
says  1  Ladies " 

Young  Derry  Willard  asked  if  he  might 
smoke.  He  smoked  cigarets.  He  took  them 
from  a  gold-looking  case.  They  smelled  very 
romantic.  Everything  about  him  smelled  very 
romantic.  His  hair  was  black.  His  eyes  were 
black.  He  looked  as  tho  he  could  cut  your 
throat  without  flinching  if  you  were  faithless 
to  him.  It  was  beautiful. 

[12] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


I  left  the  table  as  soon  as  I  could.  I  went 
and  got  my  best  story-book.  I  was  perfectly 
right.  He  looked  exactly  like  the  picture  of 
the  Fairy  Prince  on  the  front  page  of  the  book. 
There  were  heaps  of  other  pictures,  of  course. 
But  only  one  picture  of  a  Fairy  Prince.  I 
looked  in  the  glass.  I  looked  just  exactly  the 
way  I  did  before  dinner.  It  made  me  feel 
queer.  Rosalee  didn't  look  at  all  the  way  she 
looked  before  dinner.  It  made  me  feel  very 
queer. 

When  I  got  back  to  the  dining-room  every 
body  was  looking  at  the  little  spruce-tree— 
except  young  Derry  Willard  and  Rosalee. 
Young  Derry  Willard  was  still  looking  at 
Rosalee.  Rosalee  was  looking  at  the  toes  of 
her  slippers.  The  fringe  of  her  eyelashes 
seemed  to  be  an  inch  long.  Her  cheeks  were 
so  pink  I  thought  she  had  a  fever.  No  one  else 
came  to  bud  the  Christmas  tree  except  Carol's 
tame  coon  and  the  tame  crow.  Carol  is  very 
unselfish.  He  always  buds  one  wish  for  the 

[13] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

coon.  And  one  for  the  crow.  The  tame  coon 
looked  rather  jolly  and  gold-powdered  in  the 
firelight.  The  crow  never  looked  jolly.  I 
have  heard  of  white  crows.  But  Carol's  crow 
was  a  very  dark  black.  Wherever  you  put 
him  he  looked  like  a  sorrow.  He  sat  on  the 
arm  of  Rosalee's  chair  and  nibbed  at  her 
pink  sleeve.  Young  Derry  Willard  pushed 
him  away.  Young  Derry  Willard  and  Rosa- 
lee  tried  to  whisper.  I  heard  them. 

"How  old  are  you?"  whispered  Rosalee. 

"I'm  twenty-two,"  whispered  young  Derry 
Willard. 

"O— h,"  said  Rosalee. 

"How  young  are  you?"  whispered  Derry 
Willard.  ' 

"I'm  seventeen,"  whispered  Rosalee. 

"O— h,"  said  Derry  Willard. 

My  mother  started  in  very  suddenly  to  ex 
plain  about  the  Christmas  tree.  There  were 
lots  of  little  pencils  on  the  table.  And  blocks 
of  paper.  And  nice  cold,  shining  sheets  of 

[14] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


tin-foil.  There  was  violet-colored  tin-foil, 
and  red-colored  tin-foil — and  green  and  blue 
and  silver  and  gold. 

"Why,  it's  just  a  little  family  custom  of  ours, 
Mr.  Willard,"  explained  my  mother.  "After 
the  Thanksgiving  dinner  is  over  and  we're  all, 
I  trust,  feeling  reasonably  plump  and  content 
ed,  and  there's  nothing  special  to  do  except 
just  to  dream  and  think — why,  we  just  list 
out  the  various  things  that  we'd  like  for 
Christmas  and " 

"Most  people  end  Thanksgiving,  of  course," 
explained  my  father,  "by  trying  to  feel  thank 
ful  for  the  things  they've  already  had.  But 
this  seems  to  be  more  like  a  scheme  for  ex 
pressing  thanks  for  the  things  that  we'd  like 
to  have!" 

"The  violet  tin-foil  is  Rosalee's!"  I  ex 
plained.  "The  green  is  mine!  The  red  is 
mother's!  The  blue  is  father's!  The  silver 
is  Carol's!  Mother  takes  each  separate  wish 
just  as  soon  as  it's  written,  and  twists  it  all  up, 

[15] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

in  a  bud  of  tin-foil!  And  takes  wire!  And 
wires  the  bud  on  the  tree!  Gold  buds!  Sil 
ver  buds!  Red!  Green!  Everything!  All 
bursty!  And  shining!  Like  Spring!  It  looks 
as  tho  rainbows  had  rained  on  it!  It  looks  as 
tho  sun  and  moon  had  warmed  it  at  the  same 
time!  And  then  we  all  go  and  get  our  little 
iron  banks — all  the  Christmas  money,  I  mean, 
that  we've  been  saving  and  saving  for  a  whole 
year!  And  dump  it  all  out  round  the  base 
of  the  tree!  Nickels!  Dimes!  Quarters! 
Pennies!  Everything!  And " 

"Dump  them  all  out — round  the  base  of  the 
tree?"  puzzled  young  Derry  Willard. 

Carol  did  something  suddenly  that  I  never 
saw  him  do  before  with  a  stranger.  He  wrote 
a  conversation  on  a  sheet  of  paper  and  waved 
it  at  young  Derry  Willard.  It  was  a  short 
conversation.  But  it  was  written  very  tall. 

"Phertalizer!"  explained  Carol. 

My  father  made  a  little  laugh.  "In  all  my 
experience  with  horticulture,"  he  said,  "I 

[16] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


know  of  no  fertilizer  for  a  Christmas  tree 
that  equals  a  judicious  application  of  nickels, 
dimes,  and  quarters — well  stirred  in." 

"Our  uncle  Charlie  was  here  once  for 
Thanksgiving,"  I  cried.  "He  stirred  in  a 
twenty-dollar  gold  piece.  Our  Christmas  tree 
bloomed  everything  that  year!  It  bloomed 
tinsel  pompons  on  every  branch!  And  gold- 
ribbon  bow-knots!  It  bloomed  a  blackboard 
for  Carol!  And  an  ice-cream  freezer  for 
mother!  And " 

"And  then  we  take  the  tree,"  explained  my 
mother,  "and  carry  it  into  the  parlor.  And 
shut  the  door." 

"And  lock  the  door,"  said  my  father. 

"And  no  one  ever  sees,"  puzzled  young 
Derry  Willard,  "what  was  written  in  the 
wishes?" 

"N.o  one,"  I  said. 

Rosalee  laughed. 

"Some  one  —  must  see,"  said  Rosalee. 
"'Cause  just  about  a  week  before  Christmas 

[17] 


FAIRY   PRINCE   AND   OTHER    STORIES 

father  and  mother   always  go  up   to   town 
and " 

"Oh,  of  course  mother  has  to  see!"  I  ad 
mitted.  "Mother  is  such  friends  with  Christ 
mas!" 

"And  father,"  laughed  Rosalee,  "is  such 
friends  with  mother!" 

"Usually,"  I  said. 

"Eh?"  said  father. 

"And  then,"  explained  mother,  "on  Christ 
mas  morning  we  all  go  to  the  parlor!" 

"And  there's  a  fire  in  the  parlor!"  I  ex 
plained.  "A  great  hollow  Yule  log  all  stuffed 
full  of  crackly  pine-cones  and  sputtering 
sparkers  and  funny-colored  blazes  that  father 
buys  at  a  fireworks  shop!  And  the  candles 
are  lighted!  And — and " 

"And  all  the  tin-foil  buds  have  bloomed  into 
presents!"  laughed  Derry  Willard. 

"Oh,  no,  of  course — not  all  of  them,"  said 
mother. 

[18] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


"No  tree  ever  fulfills  every  bud,"  said  my 
father. 

"There's  Carol's  camel,  of  course,"  laughed 
Rosalee.  "Ever  since  Carol  was  big  enough 
to  wish,  he's  always  wished  for  a  camel!" 

"But  mostly,  of  course,"  I  insisted,  "he 
wishes  for  kites !  He  got  nine  kites  last  Christ 


mas." 


"Kites?"  murmured  young  Derry  Willard. 

"Kites!"  I  said.  "I  have  to  talk  a  good 
deal.  Once  always  for  myself.  And  all  over 
again  for  Carol."  It  seemed  a  good  time  to 
talk  for  Carol.  Perhaps  a  person  who  came 
all  the  way  from  Cuba  could  tell  us  the  thing 
we  wanted  to  know.  "Oh,  Carol's  very  much 
interested  in  kites!"  I  confided.  "And  in  rela 
tionships!  In  Christmas  relationships  espe 
cially!  When  he  grows  up  he's  going  to  be 
some  sort  of  a  jenny  something — I  think  it's 
an  ologist!  Or  else  keep  a  kite-shop!" 

"Yes?"  murmured  young  Derry  Willard. 

There  are  two  ways  I've  noticed  to  make  one 
[19] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

listen  to  you*  One  is  to  shout.  The  other  is 
to  whisper.  I  decided  to  whisper. 

"You  don't  seem  to  understand,"  I  whis 
pered.  "It's  Christmas  relationships  that  are 
worrying  Carol  and  me  so!  It  worries  us 
dreadfully!  Oh,  of  course  we  understand  all 
about  the  Little  Baby  Christ!  And  the  camels! 
And  the  wise  men!  And  the  frankincense! 
That's  easy!  But  who  is  Santa  Claus?  Unless 
— unless — ?"  It  was  Carol  himself  who  sig 
naled  me  to  go  on.  "Unless — he's  the  Baby 
Christ's  grandfather?"  I  thought  Derry  Wil- 
lard  looked  a  little  bit  startled.  Carol's  ears 
turned  bright  red.  "Oh,  of  course — we  meant 
on  his  mother's  side!"  I  hastened  to  assure  him. 

"It  is,  I  admit,  a  new  idea  to  me,"  said 
young  Derry  Willard.  "But  I  seem  to  have 
gotten  several  new  ideas  to-day." 

He  looked  at  mother.  Mother's  mouth 
looked  very  funny.  He  looked  at  father. 
Father  seemed  to  be  sneezing.  He  looked  at 
Rosalee.  They  laughed  together.  His  whole 

[20] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


face  suddenly  was  very  laughing.  "And  what 
becomes,"  he  asked,  "of  all  the  Christmas-tree 
buds  that  don't  bloom?"  It  was  a  funny  ques 
tion.  It  didn't  have  a  thing  in  the  world  to 
do  with  Santa  Claus  being  a  grandfather. 

"Oh,  mother  never  throws  away  any  of  the 
buds,"  laughed  Rosalee.  "She  just  keeps  them 
year  after  year  and  wires  them  on  all  over 
again." 

"All  unfulfilled  wishes,"  said  my  mother. 
"Still  waiting — still  wishing!  Maybe  they'll 
bloom  some  time!  Even  Carol's — camel,"  she 
laughed  out  suddenly.  "Who  knows,  sonny- 
boy — but  what  if  you  keep  on  wishing  you'll 
actually  travel  some  day  to  the  Land-Where- 
Camels-Live?  Maybe — maybe  you'll  own  a 
— a  dozen  camels?" 

"With  purple  velvet  blankets?"  I  cried. 
"All  trimmed  with  scarlet  silk  tassels?  And 
smelling  of  sandalwood?" 

"I  have  never  understood,"  said  my  father, 
"that  camels  smelt  of  sandalwood." 

[21] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Young  Derry  Willard  didn't  seem  exactly 
nervous  any  more.  But  he  jumped  up  very 
suddenly.  And  went  and  stood  by  the  fire. 

"It's  the  finest  Christmas  idea  I  ever  heard 
of!"  he  said.  "And  if  nobody  has  any  objec 
tions  I'd  like  to  take  a  little  turn  myself  at 
budding  the  Christmas  tree!" 

"Oh,  but  you  won't  be  here  for  Christmas!" 
cried  everybody  all  at  once. 

"No,  I  certainly  sha'n't  be,"  admitted  Derry 
Willard,  "unless  I  am  invited!" 

"Why,  of  course,  you're  invited!"  cried 
everybody.  Father  seemed  to  have  swallowed 
something.  So  mother  invited  him  twice. 
Father  kept  right  on  choking.  Everybody 
was  frightened  but  mother. 

Young  Derry  Willard  had  to  run  like  every 
thing  to  catch  his  train.  It  was  lucky  that  he 
knew  what  he  wanted.  With  only  one  wish 
to  make  and  only  half  a  minute  to  make  it  in, 
it  was  wonderful  that  he  could  decide  so 
quickly!  He  snatched  a  pencil!  He  scribbled 

[22] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


something  on  a  piece  of  paper!  He  crumpled 
the  "something"  all  up  tight  and  tossed  it  to 
mother!  Carol  and  mother  wadded  it  into 
a  tin-foil  bud!  They  took  the  gold-colored 
tin-foil !  Rosalee  and  I  wired  it  to  a  branch ! 
We  chose  the  highest  branch  we  could  reach ! 
Father  held  his  overcoat  for  him!  Father 
handed  him  his  bag!  Father  opened  the  door 
for  him!  He  ran  as  fast  as  he  could!  He 
waved  his  hand  to  everybody!  His  laugh  was 
all  sparkly  with  white  teeth! 

The  room  seemed  a  little  bit  dark  after  he 
had  gone.  The  firelight  flickered  on  the  tame 
coon's  collar.  Sometimes  it  flickered  on  the 
single  gold  bud.  We  cracked  more  nuts  and 
munched  more  raisins.  It  made  a  pleasant 
noise.  The  tame  crow  climbed  up  on  the 
window-sill  and  tapped  and  tapped  against 
the  glass.  It  was  not  a  pleasant  noise.  The 
tame  coon  prowled  about  under  the  table 
looking  for  crumbs.  He  walked  very  flat 
and  swaying  and  slow,  as  tho  he  were  stuffed 

[23] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

with  wet  sand.     It  gave  him  a  very  captive 
look.     His  eyes  were  very  bright. 

Father  got  his  violin  and  played  some 
quivery  tunes  to  us..  Mother  sang  a  little. 
It  was  nice.  Carol  put  fifteen  "wishes"  on 
the  tree.  Seven  of  them,  of  course,  were 
old  ones  about  the  camel.  But  all  the  rest 
were  new.  He  wished  a  salt  mackerel  for 
his  coon.  And  a  gold  anklet  for  his  crow.  He 
wouldn't  tell  what  his  other  wishes  were.  They 
looked  very  pretty  I  Fifteen  silver  buds  as  big 
as  cones  scattered  all  through  the  green 
branches!  Rosalee  made  seven  violet-colored 
wishes!  I  made  seven!  Mine  were  green! 
Father  made  three!  His  were  blue!  Mother's 
were  red!  She  made  three,  too!  The  tree 
looked  more  and  more  as  tho  rainbows  had 
rained  on  it!  It  was  beautiful!  We  thanked 
mother  very  much  for  having  a  Christmas- 
tree  garden!  We  felt  very  thankful  toward 
everybody!  We  got  sleepier  and  sleepier! 
We  went  to  bed! 

[24] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


I  woke  in  the  night.  It  was  very  lonely.  I 
crept  down-stairs  to  get  my  best  story-book. 
There  was  a  light  in  the  parlor.  There  were 
voices.  I  peeped  in.  It  was  my  father  and 
my  mother.  They  were  looking  at  the  Christ 
mas  tree.  I  got  an  awful  shock.  They  were 
having  what  books  call  "words"  with  each 
other.  Only  it  was  "sentences!" 

"Impudent  young  cub!"  said  my  father. 
"How  dared  he  stuff  a  hundred-dollar  bill  into 
our  Christmas  tree?" 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  he  didn't  mean  to  be  impu 
dent,"  said  my  mother.  Her  voice  was  very 
soft.  "He  heard  the  children  telling  about 
Uncle  Charlie's  gold  piece.  He — he  wanted 
to  do  something  —  I  suppose.  It  was  too 
much,  of  course.  He  oughtn't  to  have  done 
it.  But " 

"A  hundred-dollar  bill!"  said  my  father. 
Every  time  he  said  it  he  seemed  madder. 

"And  yet,"  said  my  mother,  "if  what  you 
say  about  his  father's  sugar  plantations  is  cor- 

[25] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

rect,  a  hundred-dollar  bill  probably  didn't 
look  any  larger  to  him  than  a — than  a  two- 
dollar  bill  looks  to  us — this  year.  We'll  simply 
return  it  to  him  very  politely — as  soon  as  we 
know  his  address.  He  was  going  West  some 
where,  wasn't  he?  We  shall  hear,  I  suppose." 

"Hear  nothing!"  said  my  father.  "I  won't 
have  it!  Did  you  see  how  he  stared  at  Rosa- 
lee?  It  was  outrageous!  Absolutely  out 
rageous!  And  Rosalee?  I  was  ashamed  of 
Rosalee!  Positively  ashamed!" 

"But  you  see — it  was  really  the  first  young 
man  that  Rosalee  has  ever  had  a  chance  to 
observe,"  said  my  mother.  "If  you  had  ever 
been  willing  to  let  boys  come  to  the  house — 
maybe  she  wouldn't  have  considered  this  one 
such  a — such  a  thrilling  curiosity." 

"Stuff  and  nonsense!"  said  my  father. 
"She's  only  a  child!  There'll  be  no  boys 
come  to  this  house  for  years  and  years!" 

"She's  seventeen,"  said  my  mother.  "You 
and  I  were  married  when  I  was  seventeen." 

[26] 


FAIRY   PRINCE 


"That's  different!"  said  my  father.  He  tried 
to  smile.  He  couldn't.  Mother  smiled  quite 
a  good  deal.  He  jumped  up  and  began  to 
pace  the  room.  He  demanded  things.  "Do 
you  mean  to  say,"  he  demanded,  "that  you 
want  your  daughter  to  marry  this  strange 
young  man?" 

"Not  at  all,"  said  mother. 

Father  turned  at  the  edge  of  the  rug  and 
looked  back.  His  face  was  all  frowned.  "And 
I  don't  like  him  anyway,"  he  said.  "He's  too 
dark!" 

"His  father  roomed  with  you  at  college, 
you  say?"  asked  my  mother  very  softly.  "Do 
you  remember  him — specially?" 

"Do  I  remember  him?"  cried  my  father. 
He  looked  astonished.  "Do  I  remember  him? 
Why,  he  was  the  best  friend  I  ever  had  in  the 
world!  Do  I  remember  him?" 

"And  he  was  —  very  fair?"  asked  my 
mother. 

[27] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

"Fair?"  cried  my  father.  "He  was  as  dark 
as  a  Spaniard!" 

"And  yet — reasonably — respectable?"  asked 
my  mother. 

"Respectable?"  cried  my  father.  "Why,  he 
was  the  highest-minded  man  I  ever  knew  in 
my  life!" 

"And  so — dark?"  said  my  mother.  She  be 
gan  to  laugh.  It  was  what  we  call  her  cut- 
finger  laugh,  her  bandage  laugh.  It  rolled 
all  around  father's  angriness  and  made  it  feel 
better  almost  at  once. 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it,"  said  father.  He 
shook  his  head  just  the  way  Carol  does  some 
times  when  he's  planning  to  be  pleasant  as 
soon  as  it's  convenient.  "Well,  I  can't  help 
it!  Exceptions,  of  course,  are  exceptions! 
But  Cuba?  A  climate  all  mushy  with  warmth 
and  sunshine!  What  possible  stamina  can  a 
young  man  have  who's  grown  up  on  sugar 
cane  sirup  and — and  bananas?" 

[28] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


"He  seemed  to  have  teeth,"  said  my 
mother.  "He  ate  two  helpings  of  turkey!" 

"He  had  a  gold  cigaret-case !"  said  my 
father.  "Gold!" 

My  mother  began  to  laugh  all  over  again. 

"Maybe  his  Sunday-school  class  gave  it  to 
him,"  she  said.  It  seemed  to  be  a  joke.  Once 
father's  Sunday-school  class  gave  him  a  high 
silk  hat.  Father  laughed  a  little. 

Mother  looked  very  beautiful.  She  ruffled 
her  hair  a  little  on  father's  shoulder.  She 
pinked  her  cheeks  from  the  inside  some  way. 
She  glanced  up  at  the  topmost  branch  of  the 
Christmas  tree.  The  gold  bud  showed  quite 
plainly. 

"I — I  wonder — what  he  wished,"  she  said. 
"We'll  have  to  look — some  time." 

I  made  a  little  creak  in  my  bones.  I  didn't 
mean  to.  My  father  and  mother  both  turned 
round.  They  started  to  explore! 

I  ran  like  everything! 

I  think  it  was  very  kind  of  God  to  make 
[29] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

•> 
December  have  the  very  shortest  days  in  the 

year! 

Summer,  of  course,  is  nice!  The  long, 
sunny  light!  Lying  awake  till  'most  nine 
o'clock  every  night  to  hear  the  blackness  come 
.rustling!  Such  a  lot  of  early  mornings  every 
where  and  birds  singing!  Sizzling-hot  noons 
with  cool  milk  to  drink!  The  pleasant  nap 
before  it's  time  to  play  again! 

But  if  December  should  feel  long,  what 
would  children  do?  About  Christmas,  I 
mean!  Even  the  best  way  you  look  at  it, 
Christmas  is  always  the  furthest-off  day  that 
I  ever  heard  about! 

My  mother  was  always  very  kind  about 
making  Christmas  come  just  as  soon  as  it 
could.  There  wasn't  much  daylight.  Not  in 
December.  Not  in  the  North.  Not  where 
we  lived.  Except  for  the  snow,  each  day  was 
like  a  little  jet-black  jewel-box  with  a  single 
gold  coin  in  the  center.  The  gold  coin  in  the 
center  was  noon.  It  was  very  bright.  It  was 

[30] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


really  the  only  bright  light  in  the  day.  We 
spent  it  for  Christmas.  Every  minute  of  it. 
We  popped  corn  and  strung  it  into  lovely 
loops.  We  threaded  cranberries.  We  stuffed 
three  Yule  logs  with  crackly  cones  and  col 
ored  fires.  We  made  little  candies.  All 
round  the  edges  of  the  bright  noon-time,  of 
course,  there  was  morning  and  night.  And 
lamp-light.  It  wasn't  convenient  to  burn  a 
great  many  lamps.  At  night  father  and 
mother  sat  in  the  lamplight  and  taught  us  our 
lessons.  Or  read  stories  to  us.  We  children 
sat  in  the  shadows  and  stared  into  the  light. 
The  light  made  us  blink.  The  tame  crow  and 
the  tame  coon  sat  in  the  shadows  with  us.  We 
played  we  were  all  jungle-animals  together 
waiting  outside  a  man's  camp  to  be  Christian 
ized.  It  was  pleasant.  Mother  read  to  us 
about  a  woman  who  didn't  like  Christmas 
specially.  She  was  going  to  petition  Congress 
to  have  the  Christ  Child  born  in  leap-year  so 
that  Christmas  couldn't  come  oftener  than 

[31] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

once  in  four  years.  It  worried  us  a  little. 
Father  laughed.  Mother  had  only  one  worry 
in  the  world.  She  had  it  every  year. 

"Oh,  my  darling,  darling  Winter  garden!" 
worried  my  mother.  "Wouldn't  it  be  awful  if 
I  ever  had  to  die  just  as  my  best  Christmas 
tree  was  coming  into  bloom?" 

It  frightened  us  a  little.  But  not  too  much. 
Father  had  the  same  worry  every  Spring 
about  his  Spring  garden.  Every  Maytime 
when  the  tulip-buds  were  so  fat  and  tight 
you  could  fairly  hear  them  splitting,  father 
worried. 

"Oh,  wouldn't  it  be  perfectly  terrible  if  I 
should  die  before  I  find  out  whether  those 
new  'Rembrandts'  are  everything  that  the  cat 
alogue  promised?  Or  whether  the  'Bizards' 
are  really  finer  than  the  'Byblooms'?  Now,  if 
it  was  in  phlox-time,"  worried  my  father. 
"Especially  if  the  phlox  turned  out  magenta, 
one  could  slip  away  with  scarcely  a  pang.  But 

in  tulip-time ?" 

[32] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


We  promised  our  mother  she  should  never 
die  at  Christmas-time.  We  promised  our 
father  he  should  never  die  at  tulip-time.  We 
brought  them  rubbers.  And  kneeling-cush- 
ions.  We  carried  their  coats.  We  found  their 
trowels.  We  kept  them  just  as  well  as  we 
could. 

But,  most  of  all,  of  course,  we  were  busy 
wondering  about  our  presents. 

It  hurries  Christmas  a  lot  to  have  a  Christ 
mas  tree  growing  in  your  parlor  for  a  whole 
month.  Even  if  the  parlor  door  is  locked. 

Lots  of  children  have  a  Christmas  tree  for 
a  whole  month.  But  it's  a  going  tree.  Its 
going  is  very  sad.  Just  one  little  wee  day  of 
perfect  splendor  it  has.  And  then  it  begins 
to  die.  Every  day  it  dies  more.  It  tarnishes. 
Its  presents  are  all  gathered.  Its  popcorn 
gets  stale.  The  cranberries  smell.  It  looks 
scragglier  and  scragglier.  It  gets  brittle.  Its 
needles  begin  to  fall.  Pretty  soon  it's  nothing 
but  a  clutter.  It  must  be  dreadful  to  start  as 

[33] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

a  Christmas  tree  and  end  by  being  nothing 
but  a  clutter. 

But  mother's  Christmas  tree  is  a  coming 
tree.  Every  day  for  a  month  it's  growing 
beautifuler  and  beautifuler!  The  parlor  is 
cool.  It  lives  in  a  nice  box  of  earth.  It  has 
water  every  day  like  a  dog.  It  never  dies.  It 
just  disappears.  When  we  come  down  to 
breakfast  the  day  after  Christmas  it  simply 
isn't  there.  That's  all.  It's  immortal.  Al 
ways  when  you  remember  it,  it's  absolutely 
perfect. 

We  liked  very  much  to  see  the  Christmas 
tree  come.  Every  Sunday  afternoon  my 
mother  unlocked  the  parlor  door.  We  were 
not  allowed  to  go  in.  But  we  could  peep  all 
we  wanted  to.  It  made  your  heart  crinkle 
up  like  a  handful  of  tinsel  to  watch  the  tin 
foil  buds  change  into  presents. 

Two  of  Carol's  silver  buds  had  bloomed. 
One  of  them  had  bloomed  into  a  white-paper 
package  that  looked  like  a  book.  The  other 

[34] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


one  had  strange  humps.  Only  one  of  Rosa- 
lee's  violet  buds  had  bloomed.  But  it  was  a 
very  large  box  tied  with  red  ribbon.  It  looked 
like  a  best  hat.  One  of  father's  blue  buds  had 
bloomed.  One  of  mother's  red  buds.  They 
bloomed  very  small.  Small  enough  to  be  dia 
monds.  Or  collar-buttons.  'Way  back  on  the 
further  side  of  the  tree  I  could  see  that  one 
of  my  green  buds  had  bloomed.  It  was  a 
long  little  box.  It  was  a  narrow  little  box.  I 
can  most  always  tell  when  there's  a  doll  in  a 
box.  Young  Derry  Willard's  golden  bud 
hadn't  bloomed  at  all.  Maybe  it  was  a  late 
bloomer.  Some  things  are.  The  tame  coon's 
salt  fish,  I've  noticed,  never  blooms  at  all 
until  just  the  very  last  moment  before  we  go 
into  the  parlor  Christmas  morning.  Mother 
says  there's  a  reason.  We  didn't  bother  much 
about  reasons.  The  parlor  was  very  cold.  It 
smelt  very  cold  and  mysterious.  We  didn't 
see  how  we  could  wait! 

Carol  helped  us  to  wait     Not  being  able 
[35] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

to  talk,  Carol  has  plenty  of  time  to  think.  He 
can  write,  of  course.  But  spelling  is  very 
hard.  So  he  doesn't  often  waste  his  spelling 
on  just  facts.  He  waits  till  he  gets  enough 
facts  to  make  a  philosophy  before  he  tries  to 
spell  it.  He  made  a  philosophy  about  Christ 
mas  coming  so  slow.  He  made  it  on  the 
blackboard  in  the  kitchen.  He  wrote  it  very 
tall. 

"Christmas  has  got  to  come,"  he  wrote.  "It's 
part  of  time.  Everything  that's  part  of  time 
has  got  to  come.  Nothing  can  stop  it.  It 
runs  like  a  river.  It  runs  down-hill.  It  can't 
help  itself.  I  should  worry." 

Young  Derry  Willard  never  wrote  at  all. 
He  telegraphed  his  "manners"  instead. 
"Thank  you  for  Thanksgiving  Day,"  he  tele 
graphed.  "It  was  very  wonderful."  He 
didn't  say  anything  else.  He  never  even  men 
tioned  his  address. 

"U — m — m,"  said  my  father. 

"It's  because  of  the  hundred-dollar  bill," 
[36] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


said  my  mother.  "He  doesn't  want  to  give 
us  any  chance  to  return  it." 

"Humph!"  said  my  father.  "Do  we  look 
poor?" 

My  mother  glanced  at  the  worn  spot  in  the 
dining-room  rug.  She  glanced  at  my  father's 
coat. 

"We  certainly  do!"  she  laughed.  "But 
young  Derry  Willard  didn't  leave  us  a  hun 
dred-dollar  bill  to  try  and  make  us  look  any 
richer.  All  young  Derry  Willard  was  try 
ing  to  do  was  to  make  us  look  more  Christ 
massy!" 

"Well,  we  can't  accept  it!"  said  my  father. 

"Of  course  we  can't  accept  it!"  said  my 
mother.  "It  was  a  mistake.  But  at  least  it 
was  a  very  kind  mistake." 

"Kind?"  said  my  father. 

"Fery  kind,"  said  my  mother.  "No  matter 
how  dark  a  young  man  may  be  or  how  much 
cane-sirup  and  bananas  he  has  consumed,  he 
can't  be  absolutely  depraved  as  long  as  he 

[37] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

goes  about  the  world  trying  to  make  things 
look  more  Christmassy!" 

My  father  looked  up  rather  sharply. 

My  mother  gave  a  funny  little  gasp. 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,"  she  said.  "We'll  man 
age  some  way!  But  who  ever  heard  of  a 
chicken-bone  hung  on  a  Christmas  tree?  Or 
a  slice  of  roast  beef?" 

"Some  children  don't  get — anything,"  said 
my  father.  He  looked  solemn.  "Money  is 
very  scarce,"  he  said. 

"It  always  is,"  said  my  mother.  "But 
that's  no  reason  why  presents  ought  to  be 


scarce." 


My  father  jumped  up. 

My  father  laughed. 

"Great  Heavens,  woman!"  he  said.    "Can't 
anything  dull  your  courage?" 

"Not  my — Christmas   courage!"    said   my 
mother. 

My  father  reached  out  suddenly  and  patted 
her  hand. 

[38] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


"Oh,  all  right,"  he  said.  "I  suppose  we'll 
manage  somehow." 

"Of  course  we'll  manage  somehow,"  said 
my  mother. 

I  ran  back  as  fast  as  I  could  to  Carol  and 
Rosalee. 

We  thought  a  good  deal  about  young 
Derry  Willard  coming.  We  talked  about  it 
among  ourselves.  We  never  talked  about  it 
to  my  father  or  my  mother.  I  don't  know 
why.  I  went  and  got  my  best  story-book 
and  showed  the  Fairy  Prince  to  Carol. 
Carol  stared  and  stared.  There  were  palms 
and  bananas  in  the  picture.  There  was  a 
lace-paper  castle.  There  was  a  moat.  There 
was  a  fiery  charger.  There  were  dragons. 
The  Fairy  Prince  was  all  in  white  armor, 
with  a  white  plume  in  his  hat.  It  grasped 
your  heart,  it  was  so  beautiful.  I  showed 
the  picture  to  Rosalee.  She  was  surprised. 
She  turned  as  white  as  the  plume  in  the 
Fairy  Prince's  hat.  She  put  the  book  in 

[39] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

her  top  bureau-drawer  with  her  ribbons. 
We  wondered  and  wondered  whether  young 
Derry  Willard  would  come.  Carol  thought 
he  wouldn't.  I  thought  he  would.  Rosalee 
wouldn't  say.  Carol  thought  it  would  be  too 
cold.  Carol  insisted  that  he  was  a  tropic. 
And  that  tropics  couldn't  stand  the  cold.  That 
if  a  single  breath  of  cold  air  struck  a  tropic 
he  blew  up  and  froze.  Rosalee  didn't  want 
young  Derry  Willard  to  blow  up  and  freeze. 
Anybody  could  see  that  she  didn't.  I  com 
forted  her.  I  said  he  would  come  in  a  huge 
fur  coat.  Carol  insisted  that  tropics  didn't 
have  huge  fur  coats.  "All  right,  then,"  I 
said.  "He  will  come  in  a  huge  feather  coat! 
Blue-bird  feathers  it  will  be  made  of!  With 
a  soft  brown  breast!  When  he  fluffs  himself 
he  will  look  like  the  god  of  all  the  birds  and 
of  next  Spring!  Hawks  and  all  evil  things 
will  scuttle  away!" 

There  certainly  was  something  the  matter 
with  the  Christmas  tree  that  year. 

[40] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


It  grew.    But  it  didn't  grow  very  fast. 

My  father  said  that  perhaps  the  fertilizer 
hadn't  been  rich  enough. 

My  mother  said  that  maybe  all  Christmas 
trees  were  blooming  rather  late  this  year. 
Seasons  changed  so. 

My  father  and  mother  didn't  go  away  to 
town  at  all.  Not  for  a  single  day. 

Late  at  night  after  we'd  gone  to  bed  we 
heard  them  hammering  things  and  running 
the  sewing-machine. 

Carol  thought  it  smelt  like  kites. 

Rosalee  said  it  sounded  to  her  like  a  blue 
silk  waist. 

It  looked  like  a  worry  to  me. 

It  got  colder  and  colder.  It  snowed  and 
snowed. 

Christmas  eve  it  snowed  some  more.  It 
was  beautiful.  We  were  very  much  excited. 
We  clapped  our  hands.  We  stood  at  the 
window  to  see  how  white  the  world  was.  I 
thought  about  the  wise  men's  camels.  I  won- 
[41] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

dered  if  they  couldi  carry  snow  in  their 
stomachs  as  well  as  rain.  Mother  said  camels 
were  tropics  and  didn't  know  anything  about 
snow.  It  seemed  queer. 

A  sleigh  drove  up  to  the  door.  There  were 
three  men  in  it.  Two  of  them  got  out.  The 
first  one  was  young  Derry  Willard.  It  was  a 
fur  coat  that  he  had  on.  He  was  full  of 
bundles.  My  father  gave  one  gasp. 

"The — the  impudent  young — "  gasped  my 
father. 

We  ran  to  the  door.  The  second  man 
looked  just  exactly  like  young  Derry  Willard 
except  that  he  had  on  a  gray  beard  and  a 
gray  slouch  hat.  He  looked  like  the  picture 
of  "a  planter"  in  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  My 
father  and  he  took  just  one  look  at  each  other. 
And  then  suddenly  they  began  to  pound  each 
other  on  the  back  and  to  hug  each  other. 
"Hello,  old  top!"  they  shouted.  "Hello- 
hello — hello!"  Derry  Willard's  father  cried 
a  little.  Everybody  cried  a  little  or  shouted 

[42] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


or  pounded  somebody  on  the  back  except 
young  Derry  Willard  and  Rosalee.  Young 
Derry  Willard  and  Rosalee  just  stood  and 
looked  at  each  other. 

"Well— well— well!"  said  Derry  Willard's 
father  over  and  over  and  over.  "Twenty 
years!  Twenty  years!"  The  front  hall  was 
full  of  bundles!  We  fell  on  them  when  we 
stepped.  And  we  fell  on  new  ones  when  we 
tried  to  get  up.  Whenever  Derry  Willard's 
father  wasn't  crying  he  was  laughing!  "So 
this  is  the  wife?"  he  said.  "And  these  are  the 
children?  Which  is  Rosalee?  Ah!  A  very 
pretty  girl!  But  not  as  pretty  as  your  wife!" 
he  laughed.  "Twenty  years!  Twenty  years!" 
he  began  all  over  again.  "A  bit  informal, 
eh?  Descending  on  you  like  this?  But  I 
couldn't  resist  the  temptation  after  I'd  seen 
Derry.  We  Southerners,  you  know!  Our 
impulses  are  romantic!  Tuck  us  away  any 
where!  Or  turn  us  out — if  you  must!" 

My  father  was  like  a  wild  man  for  joy! 
[43] 


FAIRY   PRINCE   AND   OTHER    STORIES 

He  forgot  all  about  everything  except  "twen 
ty  years  ago." 

We  had  to  put  the  two  Mr.  Derry  Willards 
to  bed  in  the  parlor.  There  was  no  other 
room.  They  insisted  on  sleeping  with  the 
Christmas  tree.  They  had  camped  under 
every  kind  of  branch  and  twig  in  the  world, 
they  said.  But  never  had  they  camped  under 
a  Christmas  tree. 

Father  talked  and  talked  and  talked !  Der 
ry  Willard's  father  talked  and  talked  and 
talked!  It  was  about  college!  It  was  about 
girls!  It  was  about  boys!  It  was  about  all 
sorts  of  pranks!  Not  any  of  it  was  about 
studies!  Mother  sat  and  laughed  at  them! 

Rosalee  and  young  Derry  Willard  sat  and 
looked  at  each  other.  Carol  and  I  played 
checkers.  Everybody  forgot  us.  I  don't 
know  who  put  me  to  bed. 

When  we  came  down-stairs  the  next  morn 
ing  and  went  into  the  parlor  to  see  the  Christ 
mas  tree  we  screamed? 

[44] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


Every  single  weeney-teeny  branch  of  it  had 
sprouted  tinsel  tassels!  There  were  tinsel 
stars  all  over  it!  Red  candles  were  blazing! 
Glass  icicles  glistened!  There  were  candy 
canes!  There  were  tin  trumpets!  Little  white- 
paper  presents  stuck  out  everywhere  through 
the  branches!  Big  white  presents  piled  like  a 
snowdrift  all  around  the  base  of  the  tree! 

Young  Derry  Willard's  father  seemed  to 
be  still  laughing.  He  rubbed  his  hands  to 
gether. 

"Excuse  me,  good  people,"  he  laughed, 
"for  taking  such  liberties  with  your  tree!  But 
it's  twenty  years  since  I've  had  a  chance  to 
take  a  real  whack  at  a  Christmas  tree!  Palms, 
of  course,  are  all  right,  and  banana  groves 
aren't  half  bad!  But  when  it  comes  to  real 
landscape  effect — give  me  a  Christmas  tree 
in  a  New  England  parlor!" 

"Palms?"  we  gasped.     "Banana-trees?" 

Young  Derry  Willard  distributed  the 
presents. 

[45] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

For  my  father  there  were  boxes  and  boxes 
of  cigars!  And  an  order  on  some  Dutch 
importing  house  for  five  hundred  green  tu 
lips!  Father  almost  sw — ooned. 

For  mother  there  was  a  little  gold  chain 
with  a  single  pearl  in  it!  And  a  box  of 
oranges  as  big  as  a  chicken-coop! 

I  got  four  dolls!  And  a  paint-box!  One 
of  the  dolls  was  jet-black.  She  was  funny. 
When  you  squeaked  her  stomach  she  grinned 
lier  mouth  and  said,  "Oh,  lor',  child!" 

Rosalee  had  a  white  crepe  shawl  all  fringes 
and  gay-colored  birds  of  paradise!  Rosalee 
had  a  fan  made  out  of  ivory  and  gold.  Rosa 
lee  had  a  gold  basket  full  of  candied  violets. 
Rosalie  had  a  silver  hand-mirror  carved  all 
round  the  edge  with  grasses  and  lilies  like  the 
edges  of  a  little  pool. 

Carol  had  a  big,  big  box  that  looked  like  a 
magic  lantern.  And  on  every  branch  where 
he  had  hung  his  seven  wishes  for  a  camel 

[46] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


there  was  a  white  card  instead  with  the  one 
word  "Palestine"  written  on  it. 

Everybody  looked  very  much   perplexed. 

Young  Derry  Willard's  father  laughed. 

"If  the  youngster  wants  camels,"  he  said,. 
"he  must  have  camels!  I'm  going  to  Pales 
tine  one  of  these  days  before  so  very  long. 
I'll  take  him  with  me.  There  must  be  heaps* 
of  camels  still  in  Palestine." 

"Going  to  Palestine  before — long,"  gasped 
my  mother.  "How  wonderful!" 

Everybody  turned  and  looked  at  Carol. 

"Want  to  go,  son,  eh?"  laughed  Derry  Wil 
lard's  father. 

Carol's  mouth  quivered.  He  looked  at  my 
mother. 

My  mother's  mouth  quivered.  A  little  red 
came  into  her  checks. 

"He  wants  me  to  thank  you  very  muchr 
Mr.  Willard,"  she  said.  "But  he  thinks  per 
haps  you  wouldn't  want  to  take  him  to  Pales 
tine — if  you  knew  that  he  can't — talk." 

[47] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Can't  talk?"  cried  Mr.  Derry  Willard. 
"Can't  talk?"  He  looked  at  mother!  He 
looked  at  Carol!  He  swallowed  very  hard! 
Then  suddenly  he  began  to  laugh  again ! 

"Good  enough!"  he  cried.  "He's  the  very 
boy  I'm  looking  for!  We'll  rear  him  for  a 
diplomat!" 

Carol  got  a  hammer  and  opened  his  big 
*box.  It  was  a  magic  lantern!  He  was  wild 
with  joy!  He  beat  his  fists  on  the  top  of  the 
box!  He  stamped  his  feet!  He  came  and 
burrowed  his  head  in  mother's  shoulder. 
When  Carol  burrows  his  head  in  my  mother's 
shoulder  it  means,  "Call  me  anything  you 
want  to!" 

Mother  called  him  anything  she  wanted  to. 
Right  out  loud  before  everybody.  "Shining 
Face!"  said  my  mother. 

There  were  lots  of  other  presents  besides. 

My  father  had  made  a  giant  kite  for  Carol. 
It  looked  nine  feet  tall.  My  father  had  made 
the  dearest  little  wooden  work-box  for  my 

[48] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


mother.  There  was  a  blue  silk  waist  for  Rosa- 
lee.  My  mother  had  knitted  me  a  doll!  Its 
body  was  knitted!  Its  cheeks  were  knitted! 
Its  nose  was  knitted!  It  was  wonderful! 

We  ate  the  peppermint-candy  canes.  All 
the  pink  stripes.  All  the  white  stripes.  We 
sang  carols.  We  sang, 

O,  the  foxes  have  holes!    And  the  birds  build  their  nests 

In  the  crotch  of  the  syncamore-tree ! 
But  the  Little  Son  of  God  had  no  place  for  His  head 

When  He  cameth  to  earth  for  me! 

Rosalee's  voice  was  like  a  lark  in  the  sky. 
Carol's  face  looked  like  two  larks  in  the 
sky. 

The  tame  crow  stayed  in  the  kitchen.  He 
was  afraid  of  so  many  strangers.  The  tame 
coon  wasn't  afraid  of  anything.  He  crawled 
in  and  out  of  all  the  wrapping-papers,  sniff 
ing  and  sniffing.  It  made  a  lovely  crackling 
sound. 

Everything  smelt  like  fir  balsam.  It  was 
more  beautiful  every  minute.  Even  after 

[49] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

every  last  present  was  picked  from  the  tree, 
the  tree  was  still  so  fat  and  fluffy  with  tinsel 
and  glass  balls  that  it  didn't  look  robbed  at 
all. 

We  just  sat  back  and  stared  at  it. 

Young  Derry  Willard  stared  only  at  the 
topmost  branch. 

Father  looked  suddenly  at  mother.  Mother 
looked  suddenly  at  Rosalee.  Rosalee  looked 
suddenly  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  suddenly 
at  me.  I  looked  suddenly  at  the  tame  coon. 
The  tame  coon  kept  right  on  crackling 
through  the  wrapping-papers. 

Young  Derry  Willard  made  a  funny  little 
face.  There  seemed  to  be  dust  in  his  throat. 
His  voice  was  very  dry.  He  laughed. 

"My  wish,"  said  young  Derry  Willard, 
"seems  to  have  been  the  only  one  that — 
didn't  bloom." 

I  almost  died  with  shame.  Carol  almost 
died  with  shame.  In  all  that  splendiferous- 
ness,  in  all  that  generosity,  poor  Derry  Wil- 

[50] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


lard's  gold-budded  wish  was  the  only  one  that 
hadn't  at  least  bloomed  into  something! 

Rosalee  jumped  up  very  suddenly  and  ran 
into  the  dining-room.  She  looked  as  tho  she 
was  going  to  cry. 

Young  Derry  Willard  followed  her.  He 
didn't  run.  He  walked  very  slowly.  He 
looked  a  little  troubled. 

Carol  and  I  began  at  once  to  fold  the 
wrapping-papers  very  usefully. 

Young  Derry  Willard's  father  looked  at 
my  father.  All  of  a  sudden  he  wasn't  laugh 
ing  at  all.  Or  rubbing  his  hands. 

"I'm  sorry,  Dick,"  he  said.  "I've  always 
rather  calculated  somehow  on  having  my 
boy's  wishes  come  true." 

My  father  spoke  a  little  sharply. 

"You  must  have  a  lot  of  confidence,"  he 
said,  "in  your  boy's  wishes!" 

"I  have!"  said  young  Derry  Willard's 
father,  quite  simply.  "He's  a  good  boy!  Not 
only  clever,  I  mean,  but  good!  Never  yet 
[51] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

have  I  known  him  to  wish  for  anything  that 
wasn't  the  best!" 

"They're  too  young,"  said  my  father. 

"Youth,"  said  Derry  Willard's  father,  "is 
the  one  defect  I  know  of  that  is  incontestably 
remedial." 

"How  can  they  possibly  know  their  own 
minds?"  demanded  my  father. 

"No  person,"  said  Derry  Willard's  father, 
"knows  his  own  mind  until  he's  ready  to  die. 
But  the  sooner  he  knows  his  own  heart  the 
sooner  he's  ready  to  begin  to  live." 

My  father  stirred  in  his  chair.  He  lit  a 
cigar.  It  went  out.  He  lit  it  again.  It  went 
out  again.  He  jerked  his  shoulders.  He 
looked  nervous.  He  talked  about  things  that 
nobody  was  talking  about  at  all. 

"The  young  rascal  dropped  a  hundred- 
dollar  bill — when  he  was  here  before!"  he 
said.  He  said  it  as  tho  it  was  something  very 
wicked. 

[52] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


Young  Derry  Willard's  father  seemed  per 
fectly  cheerful. 

"Did  he  really?"  he  said. 

"It's  a  wonder  the  crow  didn't  eat  it!" 
snapped  my  father. 

"But  even  the  crow  wouldn't  eat  it,  eh?" 
said  Derry  Willard's  father.  Quite  sud 
denly  he  began  to  laugh  again.  He  looked  at 
my  mother.  He  stopped  laughing.  His  voice 
was  very  gentle.  "Don't  be — proud,"  he  said. 
"Don't  ever  be  proud."  He  threw  out  his 
hand  as  tho  he  was  asking  something.  "What 
difference  does  anything  make — in.  the  whole 
world,"  he  said,  "except  just  young  love — and 
old  friendship?" 

"Oh,  pshaw,"  said  father.     "Oh,  pshaw!" 

Rosalee  came  and  stood  in  the  door.  She 
looked  only  at  mother.  She  had  on  a  red 
coat.  And  a  red  hat.  And  red  mittens. 

"Derry  Willard  wants  to  see  the  Christ 
mas-tree  garden,"  she  said.  "May  I  go?" 

Derry  Willard  stood  just  behind  her.  He 
[53] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

had  on  his  fur  coat.  He  looked  very  hard  at 
father.  When  he  spoke  he  spoke  only  to 
father. 

"Is  it  all  right?"  he  said.    "May  I  go?" 

My  father  looked  up.  And  then  he  looked 
down.  He  looked  at  Derry  Willard's  father. 
He  threw  out  his  hands  as  tho  there  was  no 
place  left  to  look.  A  little  smile  crept  into 
one  corner  of  his  mouth.  He  tried  to  bite  it. 
He  couldn't 

"Oh— pshaw!"  he  said. 

Carol  and  I  went  out  to  play.  We  thought 
we'd  like  to  see  the  Christmas-tree  garden 
too.  The  snow  was  almost  as  deep  as  our 
heads.  All  the  evergreen  trees  were  weighed 
down  with  snow.  Their  branches  dragged 
on  the  ground.  It  was  like  walking  through 
white  plumes. 

We  found  mother's  Christmas-tree  garden. 
We  found  Rosalee  and  young  Derry  Willard 
standing  right  in  the  middle  of  it.  It  was  all 
caves  and  castles!  It  was  like  a  whole  magic 

[54] 


FAIRY   PRINCE 


little  city  all  made  out  of  white  plumes !  The 
sun  came  out  and  shone  on  it!  Blue  sky 
opened  overhead!  Everything  crackled!  It 
was  more  beautiful  even  than  the  Christmas 
tree  in  the  parlor. 

They  didn't  hear  us. 

Rosalee  gave  a  funny  little  cry.  It  was 
like  a  sob.  Only  happy. 

"I  love  Christmas!"  she  said. 

"I  love  you!"  said  Derry  Willard. 

He  snatched  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her. 

A  great  pine-tree  shivered  all  its  snow 
down  on  them  like  a  veil. 

We  heard  them  laugh. 

We  ran  back  to  the  house.  We  ran  just 
as  fast  as  we  could.  It  almost  burst  our 
lungs.  We  ran  into  the  parlor.  I  didn't 
tell.  Carol  couldn't  tell. 

My   father   and   young   Derry   Willard's 

father  were  talking  and  talking  behind  great 

clouds  of  smoke.    The  Yule  log  was  blazing 

and    sputtering   all   sorts   of   fireworks    and 

[55] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

colors.  Only  mother  was  watching  it.  She 
was  paring  apples  as  she  watched.  A  little 
smile  was  in  her  eyes. 

"What  a  wonderful — wonderful  day  to 
have  it  happen!"  she  said. 

I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer.  I  ran  up 
stairs  and  got  my  best  story-book.  I  brought 
it  -down  and  opened  it  at  the  picture  of  the 
Fairy  Prince.  I  laid  it  open  like  that  in  Mr. 
Willard's  lap.  I  pointed  at  the  picture. 

"There!"  I  said. 

Derry  Willard's  father  put  on  his  glasses 
and  looked  at  the  picture. 

"Well,  upon  my  soul,"  he  said,  "where  did 
you  get  that?" 

"It's  my  book,"  I  said.  "It's  always  been 
my  book." 

My  father  looked  at  the  picture. 

"Why,  of  all  things,"  he  said. 

"Why,  it  looks  exactly  like  Derry!"  said 
my  mother. 

"It  is  Derry!"  said  Derry's  father.  "But 
[56] 


FAIRY    PRINCE 


don't  ever  let  Derry  know  that  you  know  that 
it  is!  It  seems  to  tease  him  a  little.  It  seems 
to  tease  him  a  very  great  deal  in  fact.  Being 
all  rigged  out  like  that.  The  illustrator  is  a 
friend  of  mine.  He  spent  the  Winter  in  Cuba 
three  or  four  years  ago.  And  he  painted  the 
picture  there." 

I  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at  me.  It 
was  an  absolutely  perfect  Christmas!  If  this 
were  true,  then  everything  beautiful  that 
there  was  in  the  world  was  true,  too!  Carol 
nudged  me  to  speak. 

"Then  Derry  really  is  a  Fairy  Prince?"  I 
said. 

Father  started  to  speak. 

Mother  stopped  him. 

"Yes!    Rosalee's  Fairy  Prince!"  she  said. 


[57] 


THE   GAME   OF  THE 
BE-WITCHMENTS 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

WE  LIKE  our  Aunt  Esta  very  mucK 
because  she  doesn't  like  us. 

That  is — she  doesn't  like  us  spe 
cially.  Toys  are  what  our  Aunt  Esta  likes 
specially.  Our  Aunt  Esta  invents  toys.  She 
invents  them  for  a  store  in  New  York.  Our 
Aunt  Esta  is  thirty  years  old  with  very  seri 
ous  hair.  I  don't  know  how  old  our  other 
relatives  are — except  Rosalee!  And  Carol! 
And  myself! 

My  sister  Rosalee  is  seventeen  years  old. 
And  a  Betrothess.     Her  Betrother  lives  in 
Cuba.    He  eats  bananas.     My  brother  Carol 
is  eleven.    He  has  no  voice  in  his  throat.    But 
he  eats  anything.     I   myself  am  only  nine. 
But  with  very  long  legs.     Our  Father  and 
Mother  have  no  age.    They  are  just  tall. 
There  was  a  man.    He  was  very  rich.    He 
[61] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

had  a  little  girl  with  sick  bones.  She  had  to 
sit  in  a  wheel  chair  all  day  long  and  be 
pushed  around  by  a  Black  Woman.  He  asked 
our  Aunt  Esta  to  invent  a  Game  for  her.  The 
little  girl's  name  was  Posie. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  invented  a  Game.  She 
called  it  the  Game  of  the  Be-Witchments. 
It  cost  two  hundred  dollars  and  forty-three 
cents.  The  Rich  Man  didn't  seem  to  mind 
the  two  hundred  dollars.  But  he  couldn't 
bear  the  forty-three  cents.  He'd  bear  even 
that,  though,  he  said,  if  it  would  only  be 
sure  to  work! 

"Work?"  said  our  Aunt  Esta.  "Why  of 
course  it  will  work!"  So  just  the  first  minute 
she  got  it  invented  she  jammed  it  into  her 
trunk  and  dashed  up  to  our  house  to  see  if  it 
would ! 

It  worked  very  well.  Our  Aunt  Esta  never 
wastes  any  time.  Not  even  kissing.  Either 
coming  or  going.  We  went  right  up  to  her 
room  with  her.  It  was  a  big  trunk.  The  Ex- 

[62] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

pressman  swore  a  little.  My  Father  tore  his 
trouser-knee.  My  Mother  began  right  away 
to  re-varnish  the  scratches  on  the  bureau. 

It  took  us  most  all  the  morning  to  carry 
the  Game  downstairs.  We  carried  it  to  the 
Dining  Room.  It  covered  the  table.  It 
covered  the  chairs.  It  strewed  the  sideboard. 
It  spilled  over  on  the  floor.  There  was  a 
pair  of  white  muslin  angel  wings  all  spangled 
over  with  silver  and  gold!  There  was  a  fairy 
wand!  There  was  a  shining  crown!  There 
was  a  blue  satin  clock!  There  was  a  yellow 
plush  suit  and  swishy-tail  all  painted  side 
ways  in  stripes  like  a  tiger!  There  was  a 
most  furious  tiger  head  with  whisk-broom 
whiskers!  There  was  a  green  frog's  head! 
And  a  green  frog's  suit!  There  was  a  witch's 
hat  and  cape!  And  a  hump  on  the  back! 
There  were  bows  and  arrows!  There  were 
boxes  and  boxes  of  milliner's  flowers! 
There  were  strings  of  beads!  And  yards 
and  yards  of  dungeon  chains  made  out  of 
[63] 


silver  paper!  And  a  real  bugle!  And  red 
Chinese  lanterns!  And — and  everything! 

The  Rich  Man  came  in  a  gold-colored  car 
to  see  it  work.  When  he  saw  the  Dining 
Room  he  sickened.  He  bit  his  cigar. 

"My  daughter  Posie  is  ten  years  old,"  he 
said.  "What  I  ordered  for  her  was  a  Game! 
>— not  a  Trousseau!" 

Our  Aunt  Esta  shivered  her  hands.  She 
shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"You  don't  understand,"  she  said.  "This 
is  no  paltry  Toy  to  be  exhausted  and  sickened 
of  in  a  single  hour!  This  is  a  real  Game! 
Eth-ical !  Psycho-psycho — logical !  Unend 
ingly  diverting!  Hour  after  hour!  Day  after 
day! — Once  begun,  you  understand,  it's  never 
over!" 

The  Rich  Man  looked  at  his  watch. 

"I  have  to  be  in  Chicago  a  week  from  to 
morrow!"  he  said. 

Somebody  giggled.  It  couldn't  have  been 
Rosalee,  of  course.  Because  Rosalee  is  seven- 

[64] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

teen.    And,  of  course,  it  wasn't  Carol.    So  it 
must  have  been  me. 

The  Rich  Man  gave  an  awful  glare. 

"Who  are  these  children?"  he  demanded. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  swallowed. 

"They  are  my — my  Demonstrators,"  she 
said. 

"  'Demonstrate rs?'"  sniffed  the  Rich  Man. 
He  glared  at  Carol.  "Why  don't  you  speak?" 
he  demanded. 

My  mother  made  a  rustle  to  the  doorway. 

"He  can't,"  she  said.  "Our  son  Carol  is 
dumb." 

The  Rich  Man  looked  very  queer. 

"Oh,  I  say,"  he  fumbled  and  stuttered. 
"Oh,  I  say — !  After  all  there's  no  such  great 
harm  in  a  giggle.  My  little  girl  Posie  cries 
all  the  time.  All  the  time,  I  mean!  Cries 
and  cries  and  cries/ — It's  a  fright!" 

"She  wouldn't,"  said  our  Aunt  Esta,  "if 
she  had  a  game  like  this  to  play  with." 

"Eh?"  said  the  Rich  Man. 
[65] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"She  could  wear  the  Witch's  hideous 
cape!"  said  our  Aunt  Esta.  "And  the  queer 
pointed  black  hat!  And  the  scraggly  gray 
wig!  And  the  great  horn-rimmed  spectacles! 
And  the  hump  on  her  back!  And " 

"My  daughter  Posie  has  Ti — Titian  red 
curls,"  said  the  Rich  Man  coldly.  "And 
the  most  beautiful  brown  eyes  that  mortal 
man  has  ever  seen!  And  a  skin  so  fair 
that " 

"That's  why  I  think  it  would  rest  her  so," 
said  our  Aunt  Esta,  "to  be  ugly  outside — 
instead  of  inside  for  a  while." 

"Eh?"  said  the  Rich  Man. 

He  glared  at  our  Aunt  Esta. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  glared  at  him. 

Out  in  the  kitchen  suddenly  the  most 
beautiful  smell  happened.  The  smell  was 
soup!  Spiced  Tomato  Soup!  It  was  as 
though  the  whole  stove  had  bloomed!  My 
Father  came  to  the  door.  "What's  it  all 
about?"  he  said.  He  saw  the  Rich  Man. 

[66] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

The  Rich  Man  saw  him.  "Why,  how  do 
you  do?"  said  my  Father.  "Why,  how  do 
you  do?"  said  the  Rich  Man.  They  bowed. 
There  was  no  room  on  the  Dining  Room 
table  to  put  the  dishes.  There  was  no  room 
anywhere  for  anything.  We  had  to  eat  in  the 
kitchen.  My  Mother  made  griddle  cakes. 
The  Rich  Man  stirred  the  batter.  He  seemed 
to  think  it  was  funny.  Carol  had  to  sit  on 
a  soap-box.  Our  Aunt  Esta  sat  on  the  edge 
of  a  barrel  with  her  stockings  swinging.  It 
made  her  look  not  so  strict.  "All  the  same," 
worried  the  Rich  Man,  "I  don't  see  just  why 
you  fixed  the  price  at  two  hundred  dollars 
and  forty-three  cents? — Why  not  two  hun 
dred  dollars  and  forty-five  cents?  Or  even 
the  round  sum  two  hundred  and  one  dollars?" 

Our  Aunt  Esta  looked  pretty  mad.  "I  will 
be  very  glad — I'm  sure,"  she  said,  "to  sub 
mit  an  itemized  bill." 

"Oh,  nonsense!"  said  the  Rich  Man.  "It 
was  just  your  mental  processes  I  was  wonder- 

[67] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

ing  about. — The  thing,   of  course,   is  worth 
any  money — if  it  works!" 

"If  it  works?"  cried  our  Aunt  Esta. 

The  Rich  Man  jumped  up  and  strode 
fiercely  to  the  Dining  Room  door. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  strode  fiercely  after  him, 
only  littler.  Our  Aunt  Esta  is  very  little. 

The  Rich  Man  waved  his  arms  at  every 
thing, — the  boxes, — the  bundles, — the  angel- 
wings, — the  cloaks, — the  suits, — the  Chinese 
Lanterns. 

"All  the  same,  the  thing  is  perfectly  out 
rageous! — The  size  of  it! — The  extent!  No 
house  would  hold  it!" 

"It  isn't  meant,"  said  our  Aunt  Esta,  "to 
be  played  just  in  the  house. — It's  meant  to  be 
played  on  a  sunny  porch  opening  out  on  a 
green  lawn — so  that  there's  plenty  of  room 
for  all  Posie's  little  playmates  to  go  swarming 
in  and  out." 

The  Rich  Man  looked  queer.  He  gave  a 
little  shiver. 

[68] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

"My  little  daughter  Posie  hasn't  got  any 
playmates,"  he  said.  "She's  too  cross." 

Our  Aunt  Esta  stood  up  very  straight. 
Two  red  spots  flamed  in  her  cheeks. 

"You  won't  be  able  to  keep  the  children 
away  from  her,"  she  said,  "after  they  once 
begin  to  play  this  game!" 

"You  really  think  so?"  cried  the  Rich 
Man. 

Out  in  the  kitchen  my  Father  looked  at  my 
Mother.  My  Mother  looked  at  my  Father. 
They  both  looked  at  us.  My  Father  made 
a  little  chuckle. 

"It  would  seem,"  said  my  Father,  "as 
though  it  was  the  honor  of  the  whole  family 
that  was  involved!"  He  made  a  whisper  in 
Carol's  ear.  "Go  to  it,  Son!"  he  whispered. 

Rosalee  jumped  to  her  feet  Carol  jumped 
to  his  feet.  I  jumped  to  my  feet.  We 
snatched  hands.  We  ran  right  into  the  Din 
ing  Room.  Carol's  face  was  shining. 

[69] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Who's  going  to  be  Posie-with-the-Sick- 
Bones?"  I  cried. 

"S — s — h!"  said  everybody  except  our  Aunt 
Esta. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  suddenly  seemed  very  much 
encouraged.  She  didn't  wait  a  minute.  She 
snatched  a  little  book  from  her  pocket.  It 
was  a  little  book  that  she  had  made  herself 
all  full  of  typewriter  directions  about  the 
Game. 

"Someone,  of  course,"  she  said,  "will  have 
to  be  the  Witch, — someone  who  knows  the 
Game,  I  mean,  so  perhaps  I — ?" 

We  rushed  to  help  her  drag  the  old  bat 
tered  tricycle  to  the  Porch!  We  helped  her 
open  up  every  porch  door  till  all  the  green 
lawn  and  gay  petunia  blossoms  came  right 
up  and  fringed  with  the  old  porch  rug!  We 
helped  her  tie  on  the  Witch's  funny  hat  I 
And  the  scraggly  gray  wig!  And  the  great 
horn-rimmed  spectacles!  We  helped  her 
climb  into  the  tricycle  seat!  We  were  too 

[70] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

excited  to  stay  on  the  porch!  We  wheeled 
her  right  out  on  the  green  lawn  itself!  The 
green  lilac  hedge  reared  all  up  around  her 
like  a  magic  wall! 

We  screamed  with  joy!  The  Rich  Man 
jumped  when  we  screamed.  The  Rich 
Man's  name  was  Mr.  Trent. 

"And  Mr.  Trent  shall  be  the  Black 
Woman  who  pushes  you  all  about!"  we 
screamed. 

"I  will  not!"  said  Mr.  Trent. 

But  Carol  had  already  tied  a  black  velvet 
ribbon  on  the  Rich  Man's  leg  to  show  that 
he  was! 

Our  Aunt  Esta  seemed  more  encouraged 
every  minute.  She  stood  us  all  up  in  front 
of  her.  Even  Father.  She  read  from  her 
book.  It  was  a  poem.  The  poem  said: 

Now  come  ye  all  to  the  Witch's  Ball, 
Ye  Great,  ye  Small, 
Ye  Short,  ye  Tall, 
Come  one,  Come  all! 

[71] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"I  will  not!"  said  the  Rich  Man. 

He  sweated. 

"Oh  Shucks!  Be  a  Sport!"  said  my  Fa 
ther. 

"I  will  not!"  said  the  Rich  Man. 

He  glared. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  tried  to  read  from  her 
book  and  wave  her  wand  at  the  same  time. 
It  waved  the  Rich  Man  in  the  nose. 

"Foul  Menial!"  waved  our  Aunt  Esta. 
"Bring  in  the  Captives!" 

"Who?"  demanded  the  Rich  Man. 

"You!"  said  our  Aunt  Esta. 

The  Rich  Man  brought  us  in!  Especially 
Father!  He  bound  us  all  up  in  silver  paper 
chains!  He  put  a  silver  paper  ring  through 
my  Father's  beautiful  nose! 

"Oh,  I  say,"  protested  my  Father.  "It  was 
'guests'  that  I  understood  we  were  to  be! 
Not  captives!" 

"Ha!"  sniffed  the  Rich  Man.  "Be  a 
Sport!" 

[72] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

They  both  glared. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  had  cakes  in  a  box.  They 
seemed  to  be  very  good  cakes.  "Now  in 
about  ten  minutes,"  read  our  Aunt  Esta  from 
her  book,  "you  will  all  begin  to  feel  very 
queer." 

"Oh— Lordy!"  said  my  Father. 

"I  knew  it!"  said  the  Rich  Man.  "I  knew 
it  all  the  time!  From  the  very  first  mouth 
ful — my  stomach " 

"Is  there  no  antidote?"  cried  my  Mother. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  took  off  her  horn-rimmed 
spectacles.  She  sniffed. 

"Sillies!"  she  said.  "This  is  just  a  Game, 
you  know!" 

"Nevertheless,"  said  the  Rich  Man,  "I 
certainly  feel  very  queer." 

"When  you  all  feel  equally  queer,"  said 
our  Aunt  Esta  coldly,  "we  will  proceed  with 
{he*  Game." 

We  all  felt  equally  queer  just  as  soon  as 
we  could. 

[73] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Our  Aunt  Esta  made  a  speech.  She  made 
it  from  her  little  book. 

"Poor  helpless  Captives  (said  the  Speech). 
You  are  now  entirely  in  my  power!  Yet  fear 
not!  If  everybody  does  just  exactly  as  I 
say,  all  may  yet  be  well !" 

"Hear!  Hear!"  said  my  Father. 

The  Rich  Man  suddenly  seemed  to  like 
my  Father  very  much.  He  reached  over 
and  nudged  him  in  the  ribs. 

"Shut  up!"  he  whispered.  "The  less  you 
say  the  sooner  it  will  be  over!" 

My  Father  said  less  at  once.  He  seemed 
very  glad  to  know  about  it. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  pointed  to  a  boxful  of  little 
envelopes. 

"Foul  Menial,"  she  said.  "Bring  the  little 
envelopes !" 

The  Rich  Man  brought  them.  But  not 
very  cheerfully. 

"Oh,  of  course,  it's  all  right  to  call  me 
that,"  he  said.  "But  I  tell  you  quite  frankly 

[74] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

that  my  daughter  Posie's  maid  will  never 
stand  for  it!  Her  name  is  Elizabeth  Lou! 
—  Mrs.  Jane  —  Frank  —  Elizabeth  Lou  — 
even!" 

Our  Aunt  Esta  looked  at  the  Rich  Man. 
Her  look  was  scornfuller  and  scornfuller. 

"All  Witch's  servants,"  she  said,  "are  called 
'Foul  Menial!' — From  the  earliest  classical 
records  of  fairy  tale  and  legend  down  to " 

"Not  in  our  times,"  insisted  the  Rich  Man. 
"I  defy  you  in  any  Intelligence  Office  in 
New  York  to  find  a — a " 

Our  Aunt  Esta  brushed  the  contradiction 
aside.  She  frowned.  Not  just  at  the  Rich 
Man.  But  at  everybody.  "We  will  proceed 
with  the  Rehearsal — as  written!"  she  said. 
She  gruffed  her  voice.  She  thumped  her 
wand  on  the  floor.  "Each  captive,"  she  said, 
"will  now  step  forward  and  draw  a  little 
envelope  from  the  box." 

Each  captive  stepped  forward  and  drew 
a  little  envelope  from  the  box. 

[75] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Inside  each  envelope  was  a  little  card. 
Very  black  ink  words  were  written  on  each 
card. 

"Captives,  stand  up  very  straight!"  ordered 
our  Aunt  Esta. 

Every  captive  stood  very  straight. 

"Knock  your  knees  together  with  fear!" 
ordered  our  Aunt  Esta. 

Every  captive  knocked  his  knees  together 
with  fear. 

"Strain  at  your  chains!"  ordered  our  Aunt 
Esta.  "But  not  too  hard!  Remembering 
they  are  paper!" 

Every  captive  strained  at  his  chains  but 
not  too  hard!  Remembering  they  were 
paper! 

Our  Aunt  Esta  seemed  very  much  pleased. 
She  read  another  poem  from  her  book.  The 
poem  said: 

Imprisoned  thus  in  my  Witchy  Wiles, 
Robbed  of  all  hope,  all  food,  all  smiles, 
A  Fearful  Doom  o'er-hangs  thy  Rest, 
Unless  thou  meet  my  Dread  Behest! 
[76] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

"Oh,  dear — oh,  dear — oh,  dear — oh,  dear!" 
cried  our  Mother.  "Can  nothing  save  us?n 

My  Father  burst  his  nose- ring! 

Rosalee  giggled! 

Carol  and  I  jumped  up  and  down!  We 
clapped  our  hands! 

The  Rich  Man  cocked  his  head  on  one 
side.  He  looked  at  our  Aunt  Esta.  At  her 
funny  black  pointed  hat.  At  her  scraggly 
gray  wig.  At  her  great  horn-rimmed  spec 
tacles.  At  the  hump  on  her  back.  "U-m-m," 
he  said.  "What  do  you  mean, — 'witch-y 
wiles?'" 

"Silence!"  said  our  Aunt  Esta.  "Read 
your  cards!" 

We  read  our  cards. 

Carol's  card  said  "PlNK  BREEZE"  on  it. 
And  "SLIMY  FROG." 

Our  Aunt  Esta  poked  Carol  twice  with  her 
wand.  "Pitiful  Wretch!"  said  our  Aunt 
Esta.  "It  is  now  two  o'clock. — Unless  you 
are  back  here  exactly  at  three  o'clock — bear- 

[77] 


ing  a  Pink  Breeze  in  your  hands — you  shall 
be  turned  for  all  time  and  eternity  into  a 
Slimy  Green  Frog! — Go  hence!" 

Carol  went  hence.  He  henced  as  far  as 
the  Mulberry  Tree  on  the  front  lawn.  He 
sat  down  on  the  grass  with  the  card  in  his 
hand.  He  read  the  card.  And  read  it.  And 
read  it.  It  puzzled  him  very  much. 

"Pitiful  Wretch,  go  hence!"  cried  our 
Aunt  Esta. 

He  henced  as  far  as  the  Larch  Tree  this 
time.  And  sat  down  all  over  again.  And 
puzzled.  And  puzzled. 

"Go  hence,  I  say,  Pitiful  Wretch!"  in 
sisted  our  Aunt  Esta. 

My  Mother  didn't  like  Carol  to  be  called 
a  "Pitiful  Wretch." — It  was  because  he  was 
dumb,  I  suppose.  When  my  Mother  doesn't 
like  anything  it  spots  her  cheek-bones  quite 
red.  Her  cheek-bones  were  spotted  very  red. 

"Stop  your  fussing!"  said  our  Aunt  Esta. 
"And  attend  to  your  own  business!" 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

My  Mother  attended  to  her  own  business. 
The  business  of  her  card  said  "SILVER  BIRD" 
and  "HORSE'S  HOOF." 

Even  our  Aunt  Esta  looked  a  bit  flabber 
gasted. 

"Oh,  dear — oh,  dear,"  said  our  Aunt  Esta. 
"I  certainly  am  sorry  that  it  was  you  who 
happened  to  draw  that  one! — And  all  dressed 
up  in  white  too  as  you  are!  But  after  all — " 
she  jerked  with  a  great  toss  of  her  scraggly 
wig,  "a  Game  is  a  Game!  And  there  can 
be  no  concessions!" 

"No,  of  course  not!"  said  my  Mother. 
"Lead  me  to  the  Slaughter!" 

"There  is  not  necessarily  any  slaughter 
connected  with  it,"  said  our  Aunt  Esta  very 
haughtily.  But  she  hit  my  Mother  only  once 
with  her  wand. 

"Frail  Creature,"  she  said.  "On  the  top 
most  branch  of  the  tallest  tree  in  the  world 
there  is  a  silver  bird  with  a  song  in  his  throat 
that  has  never  been  sung!  Unless  you  bring 

[79] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

me  this  bird  singing  you  are  hereby  doomed 
to  walk  with  the  clatter  of  a  Horse's  Hoof!" 

"Horse's  Hoof?"  gasped  my  Mother. 
"With  the  clatter  of  a  Horse's  Hoof?" 

My  Father  was  pretty  mad.  "Why,  it's 
impossible!"  he  said.  "She's  as  light  as 
Thistle-Down!  Even  in  her  boots  it's  like  a 
Fairy  passing!" 

"Nevertheless,"  insisted  our  Aunt  Esta. 
"She  shall  walk  with  the  clatter  of  a 
Horse's  Hoof — unless  she  brings  me  the 
Silver  Bird." 

My  Mother  started  at  once  for  the  Little 
Woods.  "I  can  at  least  search  the  Tallest 
Tree  in  my  world!"  she  said. 

It  made  my  Father  nervouser  and  nerv- 
ouser.  "Now  don't  you  dare,"  he  called  after 
her,  "climb  anything  until  I  come!" 

"Base  Interloper!"  said  our  Aunt  Esta. 
"Keep  Still!" 

"Who?"  said  my  Father. 

"You!"  said  our  Aunt  Esta. 
[80] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

I  giggled.  Our  Aunt  Esta  was  very  mad. 
She  turned  me  into  a  White  Rabbit.  I  was 
made  of  white  canton  flannel.  I  was  very 
soft.  I  had  long  ears.  They  were  lop-ears. 
They  were  lined  with  pink  velvet.  They 
hung  way  down  over  my  shoulders  so  I  could 
stroke  them.  I  liked  them  very  much.  But 
my  legs  looked  like  white  night-drawers. 
"Ruthy-the-Rabbit"  was  my  name.  Our 
Aunt  Esta  scolded  it  at  me. 

"Because  of  your  impudence,  Ruthy-the- 
Rabbit,"  she  said,  "you  shall  not  be  allowed 
to  roam  the  woods  and  fields  at  will.  But 
shall  stay  here  in  captivity  close  by  my  side 
and  help  the  Foul  Menial  do  the  chores!" 

The  Rich  Man  seemed  very  much  pleased. 
He  winked  an  eye.  He  pulled  one  of  my 
lop-ears.  It  was  nice  to  have  somebody 
pleased  with  me. 

Everybody  was  pleased  with  Rosalee's 
bewitchment.  It  sounded  so  restful.  All 
Rosalee  had  to  do  was  to  be  very  pretty, — 

[81] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

just  exactly  as  she  was!  And  seventeen  years 
old, — just  exactly  as  she  was!  And  sit  on 
the  big  gray  rock  by  the  side  of  the  brook  just 
exactly  as  it  was!  And  see  whether  it  was 
a  Bright  Green  Celluloid  Fish  or  a  Bright 
Red  Celluloid  Fish  that  came  down  the 
brook  first!  And  if  it  was  a  Bright  Green 
Celluloid  Fish  she  was  to  catch  it!  And  slit 
open  its  stomach !  And  take  out  all  its  Direc 
tions!  And  follow  'em!  And  if  it  was  a 
Bright  Red  Celluloid  Fish  she  was  to  catch 
it!  And  take  out  all  its  Directions  and 
follow  them! — In  either  case  her  card  said 
she  would  need  rubbers  and  a  trowel. — It 
sounded  like  Buried  Treasure  to  me!  Or 
else  Iris  Roots!  Our  Aunt  Esta  is  very  much 
interested  in  Iris  Roots. 

It  was  my  Father's  Bewitchment  that  made 
the  only  real  trouble.  Nothing  at  all  was 
postponed  about  my  Father's  Bewitchment. 
It  happened  all  at  once.  It  was  because  my 
Father  knew  too  much.  It  was  about  the 

[82] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

Alphabet  that  he  knew  too  much.  The 
words  on  my  Father's  card  said  "ALPHABET." 
And  "BACKWARDS."  And  "PiNK  SILK 
FAIRY."  And  "TIN  LOCOMOTIVE  HEAD." 
And  "THREE  MINUTES."  Our  Aunt  Esta 
turned  my  Father  into  a  Pink  Silk  Fairy 
with  White  Tarlatan  Wings  because  he  was 
able  to  say  the  Alphabet  backwards  in  three 
minutes!  My  Father  refused  to  turn!  He 
wouldn't!  He  wouldn't!  He  swore  he 
wouldn't!  He  said  it  was  a  "cruel  and 
unnecessary  punishment!"  Our  Aunt  Esta 
said  it  wasn't  a  Punishment!  It  was  a 
Reward!  It  was  the  Tin  Locomotive  Head 
that  was  the  punishment!  My  Father  said 
he  wouldn't  have  cared  a  rap  if  it  had  been 
the  Tin  Locomotive  Head! — He  could  have 
smoked  through  that!  But  he  wouldn't 
be  a  Pink  Silk  Fairy  with  White  Tarlatan 
Wings ! 

The  Rich  Man  began  right  away  to  untie 
the  black  velvet  ribbon  on  his  leg,  and  go 

[83] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

home!  He  looked  very  cheated !  He  scorned 
my  Father  with  ribald  glances!  "Work?" 
he  gloated.  "Of  course  it  won't  work!  I 
knew  all  the  time  it  wouldn't  work! — Two 
hundred  dollars  1  And  forty-three  cents?"  he 
gloated.  "H-ar 

Our  Aunt  Esta  cried!  She  put  her  hand 
on  my  Father's  arm.  It  was  a  very  small 
hand.  It  didn't  look  a  bit  like  a  Witch's 
hand.  Except  for  having  no  lovingness  in 
it  it  looked  a  good  deal  like  my  Mother's 
hand. 

My  Father  consented  to  be  turned  a  little! 
But  not  much!  He  consented  to  wear  the 
white  tarlatan  wings!  And  the  gold  paper 
crown!  But  not  the  garland  of  roses!  He 
would  carry  the  pink  silk  dress  on  his  arm, 
he  said.  But  he  would  not  wear  it! 

The  Rich  Man  seemed  very  much  en 
couraged.  He  stopped  untying  the  black 
velvet  ribbon  from  his  leg.  He  grinned  a 
little. 

[84] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

My  Father  told  him  what  he  thought  of 
him.  The  Rich  Man  acknowledged  that 
very  likely  it  was  so.  But  he  didn't  seem  to 
mind.  He  kept  right  on  grinning. 

My  Father  stalked  away  in  his  gold  paper 
crown  with  the  pink  dress  over  his  arm.  He 
looked  very  proud  and  noble.  He  looked  as 
though  even  if  dogs  were  sniffing  at  his  heels 
he  wouldn't  turn.  His  white  wings  flapped 
as  he  walked.  The  spangles  shone.  It 
looked  very  holy. 

The  Rich  Man  made  a  funny  noise.  It 
sounded  like  snorting. 

My  Father  turned  round  quicker  than 
scat.  He  glared  right  through  the  Rich  Man 
at  our  Aunt  Esta.  He  told  our  Aunt  Esta 
just  what  he  thought  of  her! 

The  Rich  Man  said  it  wasn't  so  at  all! 
That  the  Game  undoubtedly  was  perfectly 
practical  if 

"If  nothing!"  said  my  Father.  "It's  you 
yourself  that  are  spoiling  the  whole  effect  by 

[85] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

running  around  playing  you're  a  Black  Slave 
with  nothing  on  but  a  velvet  ribbon  round 
one  knee!  The  very  least  you  could  do," 
said  my  Father,  "is  to  have  your  face 
blacked!  And  wear  a  plaid  skirt!" 

"Eh?"  said  the  Rich  Man. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  was  perfectly  delighted 
with  the  suggestion. 

The  Rich  Man  took  her  delight  coldly. 

He  glared  at  my  Father.  "I  don't  think 
I  need  any  outside  help,"  he  said,  "in  the 
management  of  my  affairs. — As  the  Owner 
indeed  of  one  of  the  largest  stores  in  the 
world  I " 

"That's  all  right,"  said  my  Father.  "But 
you  never  yet  have  tried  to  manage  the  chil 
dren's  Aunt  Esta. — Nothing  can  stop  her!" 

Nothing  could!  She  pinned  an  old  plaid 
shawl  around  the  Rich  Man's  waist!  She 
blacked  his  face!  He  had  to  kneel  at  her 
feet  while  it  was  being  blacked!  He  seemed 
to  sweat  easily!  But  our  Aunt  Esta  blacked 

[86] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

very  easily  too!  He  looked  lovely!  Even 
my  Father  thought  he  looked  lovely!  When 
he  was  done  he  wanted  to  look  in  a  mirror. 
My  Father  advised  him  not  to.  But  he 
insisted.  My  Father  got  up  from  making 
suggestions  and  came  and  stood  behind  him 
while  he  looked.  They  looked  only  once. 
Something  seemed  to  hit  them.  They 
doubled  right  up.  It  was  laughter  that  hit 
them.  They  slapped  each  other  on  the  back. 
They  laughed!  And  laughed!  And  laughed! 
They  made  such  a  noise  that  my  Mother 
came  running! 

It  seemed  to  make  our  Aunt  Esta  a  little 
bit  nervous  to  have  my  Mother  come  run 
ning.  She  pointed  her  wand.  She  roared 
her  voice. 

*  Where  is  the  Silver  Bird?"  she  roared. 

My  Mother  looked  just  as  swoone-y  as  she 
could.  She  fell  on  her  knees.  She  clasped 
her  hands. 

"Oh,  Cruel  Witch,"  she  said.  "I  saw  the 
[87] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

bird!  But  I  couldn't  reach  him!  He  was  in 
the  Poplar  Tree! — However  in  the  world 
did  you  put  him  there? — Was  that  what  you 
were  bribing  the  Butcher's  Boy  about  this 
morning?  Was  that ?" 

"Hush!"  roared  our  Aunt  Esta.  "Your 
Doom  has  overtaken  you!  Go  hence  with  the 
clatter  of  a  Horse's  Hoof  until  such  time  as 
your  Incompetent  Head  may " 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  my  head  that  was  incompe 
tent,"  said  my  Mother.  "It  was  my  legs. 
The  Poplar  Tree  was  so  very  tall!  So  very 
fluffy  and  undecided  to  climb!  So " 

"With  the  clatter  of  a  Horse's  Hoof!"  in 
sisted  our  Aunt  Esta.  "There  can  be  no 
mercy!" 

"None?"  implored  my  Mother. 

"None!"  said  our  Aunt  Esta. 

She  gave  my  Mother  two  funny  little 
wooden  cups.  They  were  something  like 
clappers.  You  could  hold  them  in  your  hand 
so  they  scarcely  showed  at  all  and  make  a 

[88] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

noise  like  a  horse  galloping  across  a  bridge! 
Or  trotting!  Or  anything!  It  made  quite 
a  loud  noise!  It  was  wonderful!  My 
Mother  started  right  away  for  the  village. 
She  had  on  white  shoes.  Her  feet  were  very 
small.  She  sounded  like  a  great  team  horse 
stumbling  up  the  plank  of  a  ferry-boat  "I 
think  I'll  go  get  the  mail!"  she  said. 

"Like  that?"  screamed  my  Father. 

My  Mother  turned  around.  Her  hair  was 
all  curly.  There  were  laughs  in  her  eyes. 

"I  have  to!"  she  said.     "I'm  bewitched!" 

"I'll  go  with  you!"  said  my  Father. 

My  Mother  turned  around  again.  She 
looked  at  my  Father!  At  his  golden  crown! 
At  his  white  spangled  wings!  At  the  pink 
silk  skirt  over  his  arm! 

"Like — that?"  said  my  Mother. 

My  Father  decided  not  to  go. 

The  Rich  Man  said  he  considered  the 
decision  very  wise. 

They  glared. 

[89] 


A 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

Way  over  on  the  other  side  of  the  green 
lilac  hedge  we  heard  my  Mother  trotting 
down  the  driveway.  Clack-clack — clack — 
clack  sounded  the  hoof -beats  1 

"My  Lord  —  she's  pacing!"  groaned  my 
Father. 

"Clever  work!"  said  the  Rich  Man.  "Was 
she  ever  in  a  Band?  In  a  Jazz  Band,  you 
know,  with  Bantam  Rooster  whistles?  And 
drums  that  bark  like  dogs?" 

"In  a  what?"  cried  my  Father.  He  was 
awful  mad. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  tried  to  soothe  him  with 
something  worse.  She  turned  to  me. 

"Now,  Ruthy-the-Rabbit,"  she  said.  "Let 
us  see  what  you  can  do  to  redeem  the  ignom 
iny  of  your  impudent  giggling!"  She  handed 
me  the  Bright  Green  and  the  Bright  Red 
Celluloid  fishes.  She  poked  her  wand  at  me. 
"Hopping  all  the  way,"  she  said.  "Every 
step  of  the  way,  you  understand, — bear  these 
two  fish  to  the  Head-Waters  of  the  Magic 

[90] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

Brook, — the  little  pool  under  the  apple  tree 
will  do, — and  start  them  ex — ex — peditiously 
down  the  Brook  towards  Rosaleel" 

"Yes'm,"  I  said. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  turned  to  the  Rich  Man. 

"Foul  Menial,"  she  said.  "Push  my 
chariot  a  little  further  down  the  Lawn  into 
the  shade!'7 

The  Foul  Menial  pushed  it. 

My  Father  pushed  a  little  too. 

I  hopped  along  beside  them  flopping  my 
long  ears.  Our  Aunt  Esta  looked  ex-actly 
like  a  Witch!  The  Rich  Man's  black  face 
was  leaking  a  little  but  not  much!  It  would 
have  been  easier  if  he  hadn't  tripped  so  often 
on  his  plaid  shawl  skirt!  My  Father's  white 
wings  flapped  as  he  pushed!  He  looked  like 
an  angel  who  wasn't  quite  hatched!  It  was 
handsome! 

When  we  got  to  the  thickest  shade  there 
was  a  man's  black  felt  hat  bobbing  along 
the  top  of  the  Japonica  Hedge.  It  was 

[91] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

rather  a  soft-boiled  looking  hat.  It  was 
bobbing  just  as  fast  as  it  could  towards  the 
house. 

When  our  Aunt  Esta  saw  the  hat  she 
screamed!  She  jumped  from  her  chariot  as 
though  it  had  been  flames!  She  tore  the 
scraggly  gray  wig  from  her  head!  She  tore 
the  hump  from  her  back!  She  kicked  off 
her  wooden  shoes!  Her  feet  were  silk!  She 
ran  like  the  wind  for  the  back  door! 

My  Father  ran  for  the  Wood-Shed! 

The  Rich  Man  dove  into  the  Lilac  Bush! 

When  the  Rich  Man  was  all  through  div 
ing  into  the  Lilac  Bush  he  seemed  to  think 
that  he  was  the  only  one  present  who  hadn't 
done  anything! 

"What  you  so  scared  about,  Ruthy?"  he 
said.  "What's  the  matter  with  everybody? 
Who's  the  Bloke?" 

"It's  the  New  Minister,"  I  said. 

"Has  he  got  the  Cholera  or  anything?" 
said  the  Rich  Man. 

[92] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

"No,  not  exactly,"  I  explained.  "He's  just 
our  Aunt  Esta's  Suitor!" 

"Your  Aunt  Esta's  Suitor?"  cried  the  Rich 
Man.  "Suitor?"  He  clapped  his  hand  over 
his  mouth.  He  burst  a  safety-pin  that  helped 
lash  the  plaid  shawl  around  him.  "What  da 
you  mean, — 'Suitor?'"  he  said. 

It  seemed  queer  he  was  so  stupid. 

"Why  a  Suitor,"  I  explained,  "is  a  Person 
Who  Doesn't  Suit — so  he  keeps  right  on 
coming  most  every  day  to  see  if  he  does !  As 
soon  as  he  suits,  of  course,  he's  your  husband 
and  doesn't  come  any  more  at  all — because 
he's  already  there!  The  New  Minister," 
I  explained  very  patiently,  "is  a  Suitor  for 
our  Aunt  Esta's  hand!" 

We  crawled  through  the  Lilac  Bush.  We 
peeped  out. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  hadn't  reached  the  back 
door  at  all.  She  sat  all  huddled  up  in  a. 
little  heap  on  the  embankment  trying  to  keep 
the  New  Minister  from  seeing  that  she  was 

[93] 


FAIRY   PRINCE   AND   OTHER   STORIES 

in  her  stocking-feet.  But  the  New  Minister 
didn't  seem  to  see  anything  at  all  except  her 
hands.  Being  a  Suitor  for  her  hands  it  was 
natural,  I  suppose,  that  he  wasn't  interested 
in  anything  except  her  hands.  Her  hands 
were  on  her  hair.  The  scraggly  gray  wig 
had  rumpled  all  the  seriousness  out  of  her 
hair.  It  looked  quite  jolly.  The  New 
Minister  stared!  And  stared!  And  stared! 
Except  for  having  no  lovingness  in  them,  her 
hands  looked  very  much  like  my  Mother's. 

"Our  Aunt  Esta's  got  —  nice  hands,"  I 
said. 

The  Rich  Man  burst  another  safety  pin. 

"Yes,  by  Jove,"  he  said.  "And  nice  feet, 
too!"  He  seemed  quite  surprised.  "How 
long's  this  minister  fellow  been  coming 
here?"  he  said. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  I  said.  "He  comes 
whenever  our  Aunt  Esta  comes." 

The  Rich  Man  made  a  grunt.  He  looked 
at  the  Minister's  hat. 

[94] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

"Think  of  courting  a  woman,"  he  said,  "in 
a  hat  like  that!" 

"Oh,  our  Aunt  Esta  doesn't  care  anything 
at  all  about  hats,"  I  said. 

"It's  time  she  did!"  said  the  Rich  Man. 

"We'll  go  out  if  you  say  so,"  I  suggested, 
"and  help  them  have  a  pleasant  time." 

The  Rich  Man  was  awful  mad.  He 
pointed  at  his  plaid  shawl!  He  pointed  at 
his  black  face! 

"What?"  he  said.  "Go  out  like  this? 
And  make  a  fool  of  myself  before  that 
Ninny-Hat?" 

"Why,  he'd  love  it!"  I  said. 

The  Rich  Man  choked. 

"That's  quite  enough  reason!"  he  said. 

There  was  a  noise  in  the  wood-shed.  We 
could  see  the  noise  through  the  window.  It 
was  my  Father  trying  to  untie  his  wings. 
He  couldn't. 

The  Rich  Man  seemed  to  feel  better  sud 
denly.  He  began  to  mop  his  face. 

[95] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"It's  a  great  Game,  all  right,"  he  said,  "if 
you  don't  weaken!"  He  pulled  my  ears. 
"But  why  in  the  world,  Ruthy "  he  wor 
ried,  "did  she  have  to  go  and  tuck  that 
forty-three  cents  on  to  the  end  of  the  bill?" 

"Why,  that's  her  profit!"  I  explained. 

"Her — profit?"  gasped  the  Rich  Man. 
"Her  Profit?" 

"Why,  she  had  to  have  something!"  I  ex 
plained.  "She  was  planning  to  have  more, 
of  course!  She  was  planning  to  go  to  Atlan 
tic  City!  But  everything  costs  so  big!  Even 
toys!  It's " 

"Her  Profit?"  gasped  the  Rich  Man. 
"Forty-three  cents  on  a  two  hundred  dollar 
deal?"  He  began  to  laugh!  And  laugh! 
"And  she  calls  herself  a  Business  Woman?" 
he  said.  "Why,  she  ought  to  be  in  an  Asy 
lum! — All  women,  in  fact,  ought  to  be  in 
Asylums — or  else  in  homes  of  their  own!" 
Quite  furiously  he  began  to  pull  my  ears  all 
over  again.  "Business  Woman"  he  said. 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

"And  both  her  feet  would  go  at  once  in  the 
hollow  of  my  hand!  Business  Woman!" 

Out  in  the  roadway  suddenly  somebody 
sneezed. 

It  made  the  Rich  Man  jump  awfully. 

"Ruthy,  stay  where  you  are!"  he  ordered. 

"I  can't!"  I  called  back.  "I'm  already 
hopped  out!" 

From  my  hop-out  I  could  see  the  Person 
Who  Sneezed!  Anybody  would  have  known 
that  it  was  Posie-with-the-Sick- Bones!  She 
was  sitting  in  an  automobile  peering  through 
the  hedge!  There  was  a  black  woman  with 
her! 

The  Rich  Man  crackled  in  the  bushes. 
He  reached  out  and  grabbed  my  foot.  He 
pulled  me  back.  His  face  looked  pretty 
queer. 

"Yes,  she's  been  there  all  the  time,"  he 
whispered.  "But  not  a  soul  knows  it! — I 
wanted  her  to  see  it  work! — I  wanted  to  be 
sure  that  she  liked  it — But  I  was  afraid  to 

[97] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

bring  her  in!  She  catches  everything  so! 
And  I  knew  there  were  children  here!  And 
I  was  afraid  there  might  be  something  con 
tagious!" 

He  peered  out  through  the  Lilac  Branches. 
There  was  quite  a  good  deal  to  peer  at. 

Down  in  the  meadow  Rosalee  was  still 
running  up  and  down  the  soft  banks  of  the 
brook  trying  to  catch  the  Celluloid  Fish. 
She  had  on  a  green  dress.  It  was  a  slim 
dress  like  a  willow  wand.  She  had  her  shoes 
and  stockings  in  one  hand.  And  a  great  bunch 
of  wild  blue  Forget-me-Nots  in  the  other. 
Her  hair  was  like  a  gold  wave  across  her 
face.  She  looked  pretty.  The  Springtime 
looked  pretty  too. — Out  in  the  wood-shed  my 
Father  was  still  wrestling  with  his  wings. 

Up  on  the  green  mound  by  the  house  our 
Aunt  Esta  was  still  patting  her  hair  while 
the  New  Minister  stared  at  her  hands. 

The  Rich  Man  turned  very  suddenly  and 
stared  at  me. 

[98] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

"Contagious?"  he  gasped  out  suddenly. 
"Why,  upon  my  soul,  Ruthie — it's  just  about 
the  most  contagious  place  that  I  ever  was  in 
— in  my  life!" 

He  gave  a  funny  little  laugh.  He  glanced 
back  over  his  shoulder  towards  the  road. 
He  groaned. 

"But  I  shall  certainly  be  ruined,  Ruthie," 
he  said,  "if  my  little  daughter  Posie  or  my 
little  daughter  Posie's  Black  Woman  ever 
see  me  at  close  range — in  these  clothes!"  He 
took  my  chin  in  his  hands.  He  looked  very 
deep  into  my  eyes.  "Ruthie,"  he  said,  "you 
seem  to  be  a  very  intelligent  child. — If  you 
can  think  of  any  way — any  way,  I  say — by 
which  I  can  slink  off  undetected  into  the 
house — and  be  washed " 

"Oh  Shucks!  That's  easy!"  I  said.  "We'll 
make  Posie  be  the  Witch  I" 

When  I  hopped  out  this  time  I  stayed 
hopped!  I  hopped  right  up  on  the  wall! 
And  stroked  my  ears! 

[99] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

When  Posie-with-the-Sick-Bones  saw  me 
she  began  to  laugh!  And  clap  her  hands! 
And  kick  the  Black  Woman  with  her  toes! 

"Oh,  I  want  to  be  the  Witch!"  she  cried. 
"I  want  to  be  the  Witch  for  ever  and  ever! 
And  change  everybody  into  everything!  I'm 
going  to  wear  it  home  in  the  automobile! 
And  scare  the  Cook  to  Death!  I'm  going 
to  change  the  Cook  into  a  cup  of  Beef  Tea! 
And  throw  her  down  the  sink!  I'm  going  to 
change  my  Poodle  Dog  into  a  New  Moon!" 
she  giggled.  "I'm  going  to  change  my 
Doctor  into  a  Balloon!  And  cut  the  string!" 

The  Rich  Man  seemed  perfectly  delighted. 
I  could  see  his  face  in  the  bushes.  He  kept 
rubbing  his  hands!  And  nodding  to  me  to 
go  ahead! 

I  went  ahead  just  as  fast  as  I  could. 

The  Black  Woman  began  to  giggle  a  little. 
She  giggled  and  opened  the  automobile  door. 
She  giggled  and  lifted  Posie  out.  She  gig- 
led  and  carried  Posie  to  the  Witch's  chariot. 
[100] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

She  giggled  and  tied  the  Witch's  hat  under 
Posie's  chin.  She  giggled  and  tied  the 
humped-back  cape  around  Posie's  neck. 

Posie  never  stopped  clapping  her  hands 
except  when  the  Witch's  Wig  itched  her 
nose. 

It  was  when  the  Witch's  Wig  itched  her 
nose  that  the  Rich  Man  slunk  away  on  all 
fours  to  be  washed.  He  giggled  as  he  slunk. 
It  looked  friendly. 

Carol  came.  He  was  pretty  tired.  But 
he  had  the  Pink  Breeze  in  his  hands.  It 
was  Phlox!  It  was  very  pink!  It  was  in  a 
big  flower  pot!  He  puffed  out  his  cheeks 
as  he  carried  it  and  blew  it  into  Breezes! 
It  was  pretty!  It  was  very  heavy!  He 
knelt  at  the  Witch's  feet  to  offer  it  to  her! 
When  he  looked  up  and  saw  the  Strange 
Child  in  the  Witch's  Chair  he  dropped  it! 
It  broke  and  lay  on  the  ground  all  crushed 
and  spoiled!  His  mouth  quivered!  All  the 
shine  went  out  of  his  face! 
[101] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

It  scared  Posie  to  see  all  the  shine  go  out 
of  his  face. 

"Oh,  Boy — Boy,  put  back  your  smile  I"  she 
said. 

Carol  just  stood  and  shook  his  head. 

Posie  began  to  scream. 

"Why  doesn't  he  speak?"  she  screamed. 

"He  can't,"  I  said.  "He  hasn't  any 
speech!" 

<fWhy  doesn't  he  cry?"  screamed  Posie. 

"He  can't,"  I  said.    "He  hasn't  any  cry!" 

Posie  stopped  screaming. 

"Can't  he  even  swear?"  she  said. 

"No,  he  can't,"  I  said.  "He  hasn't  any 
swear!" 

Posie  looked  pretty  surprised. 

"I  can  speak!"  she  said.  "I  can  cry!  I  can 
swear!" 

"You  sure  can,  Little  Missy!"  said  the 
Black  Woman. 

Posie  looked  at  Carol.  She  looked  a  long 
time.  A  little  tear  rolled  down  her  cheek. 
[102] 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WIJTCHMENTS 

"Never  mind,  Boy,"  she  said.  "I  will  help 
you  make  a  new  Pink  Breeze!" 

"Oh  Lor,  Little  Missy,"  said  the  Black 
Woman.  "You  never  helped  no  one  do 
nothin'  in  your  life!" 

"I  will  if  I  want  to!"  said  Posie.  "And 
we'll  make  a  Larkspur-Colored  Breeze  too, 
if  we  want  to!"  she  said.  "And  I'll  have  it 
on  my  window-sill  all  blue-y  and  frilly  and 
fluttery  when  everything  else  in  the  room  is 
horrid  and  hushed  and  smothery! — And  we'll 

make  a  Green  Breeze "  She  gave  a  little 

cry.  She  looked  at  the  Waring  Meadow 
where  all  the  long  silrer-tipped  grasses 
ducked  and  dipped  in  the  wind.  She 
stretched  out  her  arms.  Her  arms  were  no 
bigger  than  the  handles  of  our  croquet 
mallets.  "We'll  dig  up  all  the  Waving 
Meadow,"  she  cried.  "And  pot  it  into 
Window-Sill  Breezes  for  the  hot  people  in 
the  cities !" 

"You  can't!"  I  said.  "It  would  take 
[103] 


mor'n  an  hour!  And  you've  got  to  be  the 
Witch!" 

"I  will  not  be  the  Witch!"  said  Posie. 
She  began  to  scream!  "It's  my  Game!" 
she  screamed.  "And  I'll  do  anything  I  like 
with  it!"  She  tore  off  her  black  pointed  hat! 
She  kicked  off  her  stubby  wooden  shoes! 
She  screamed  to  the  Black  Woman  to  come 
and  bear  her  away! 

While  the  Black  Woman  bore  her  away 
Carol  walked  beside  them.  He  seemed  very 
much  interested  that  any  one  could  make 
so  much  noise. 

When  Posie  saw  how  much  interested 
Carol  was  in  the  noise,  she  stopped  en — tirely 
screaming  to  the  Black  Woman  and  screamed 
to  Carol  instead. 

While  Carol  walked  beside  the  Noise,  I 
saw  the  New  Minister  come  down  the  Road 
and  go  away.  His  face  looked  red. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  came  running.  She  was 
very  business-like.  She  snatched  up  her 
[104] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

wooden  shoes  and  put  them  on!  She 
crammed  on  the  scraggly  gray  wig  and  the 
humped-back  cape! 

"Foul  Menial!"  she  called.  "Come  at 
once  and  resume  the  Game!" 

The  Black  Woman  stepped  out  of  the 
bushes.  She  looked  very  much  surprised. 
But  not  half  as  surprised  as  our  Aunt  Esta. 

Our  Aunt  Esta  rubbed  her  eyes!  She 
rubbed  them  again!  And  again!  She 
looked  at  the  Black  Woman's  face.  It  was 
a  real  black  face.  She  looked  at  the  Black 
Woman's  woolly  hair. — It  was  real  woolly 
hair!  Her  jaw  dropped! 

"Ruthy-the-Rabbit,  hop  here!"  she  gasped. 

I  hopped. 

She  put  her  lips  close  to  my  ear. 

"Ruthy-the-Rabbit,"  she  gasped.  "Do  I 
see  what  I  think  I  see?" 

"Yes,  you  do!"  I  said. 

She  put  her  head  down  in  her  hands !  She 
began  to  laugh!  And  laugh!  And  laugh! 
[105] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

It  was  a  queer  laugh  as  though  she  couldn't 
stop!  The  tears  ran  out  between  her  ringers! 

"Well — I  certainly  am  a  Witch!"  she 
laughed.  Her  shoulders  shook  like  sobs. 

The  Rich  Man  came  running!  He  had 
his  watch  in  his  hand!  He  was  all  clean 
and  shining!  He  saw  the  Black  Woman 
standing  by  the  Witch's  chair!  He  saw  the 
Witch  in  the  chair!  He  thought  the  Witch 
was  Posie!  He  grabbed  her  right  up  in  his 
arms  and  hugged  her! 

"Though  I'm  late  for  a  dozen  Directors' 
Meetings,"  he  cried,  "it's  worth  it,  my 
Precious,  to  see  you  laugh!" 

"I'm  not  your  Precious!"  cried  our  Aunt 
Esta.  She  bit!  She  tore!  She  scratched! 
She  shook  her  scraggly  gray  wig-curls  all 
over  her  face!  It  was  like  a  mask!  But  all 
the  time  she  kept  right  on  laughing!  She 
couldn't  seem  to  stop! 

The  Rich  Man  kissed  her  And  kissed 
her!  Right  through  her  scraggly  gray  wig- 
[106] 


THE    GAME    OF    THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

curls  he  kissed  her!  He  couldn't  seem  to 
stop! 

"Now,  at  last,  my  Precious,"  he  said. 
"We've  learned  how  to  live  I  We'll  play 
more!  We'll  laugh  more!" 

Our  Aunt  Esta  tore  off  her  wig!  She  tore 
off  her  hump !  She  shook  her  fist  at  the  Rich 
Man!  But  she  couldn't  stop  laughing! 

The  Rich  Man  gave  one  awful  gasp!  He 
turned  red!  He  turned  white!  'He  looked 
at  the  wood-shed  window  to  see  if  my  Father 
had  seen  him. 

My  Father  had  seen  him! 

The  Rich  Man  said  things  under  his 
breath.  That  is,  most  of  them  were  under 
his  breath.  He  stalked  to  his  car.  He  or 
dered  the  Black  Woman  to  pick  up  the  Real 
Posie  and  stalk  to  his  car!  He  looked  madder 
than  Pirates! 

But  when  he  had  climbed  into  his  car,  and 
had  started  his  engine,  and  was  all  ready  to 
go,  he  stood  up  on  the  seat  instead,  and  peered 
[107] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

over  the  hedge-top  at  our  Aunt  Esta!    And 
grinned  1 

Our  Aunt  Esta  was  standing  just  where  he 
had  left  her.  All  the  laughter  was  gone  from 
her.  But  her  eyes  looked  very  astonished. 
Her  cheeks  were  blazing  red.  Her  hair  was 
all  gay  and  rumpled  like  a  sky-terrier's.  It 
seemed  somehow  to  be  rather  becoming  to 
our  Aunt  Esta  to  be  kissed  by  mistake. 

The  Rich  Man  made  a  little  noise  in  his 
throat.  Our  Aunt  Esta  looked  up.  She 
jumped.  The  Rich  Man  fixed  his  eyes  right 
on  her.  His  eyes  were  full  of  twinkles. 

"Talk  about  Be-Witchments !"  he  said. 
•"Talk  about— Be-Witchments!— I'll  be  back 
on  Tuesday!  What  for? — Great  Jumping 
Jehosophats!"  he  said.  "It's  enough  that  I'll 
be  back!" 

My  Father  stuck  his  head  and  the  tip  of  one 
battered  wing  out  the  wood-shed  window. 
He  started  to  say  something.  And  cocked 
his  ear  instead. 

[1081 


THE    GAME    OF   THE    BE-WITCHMENTS 

It  was  towards  the  village  that  he  cocked 
his  ear. 

We  all  stopped  and  cocked  our  ears. 

It  was  a  funny  sound:  Clack-Clack- 
Clackt  Clack-Clack-C/adfc/  Clack-Clack— 
Clack! 

It  was  my  Mother  cantering  home  across 
the  wooden  bridge. 

It  sounded  glad. 

My  Father  thought  of  a  new  way  suddenly 
to  escape  from  his  wings!  And  ran  to  meet 
her! 


[109] 


THE   BLINDED    LADY 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 

THE  Blinded  Lady  lived  in  a  little 
white  cottage  by  the  Mill  Dam. 

She  had  twenty-seven  cats!  And 
a  braided  rug!  And  a  Chinese  cabinet  all 
full  of  peacock-feather  fans! 

Our  Father  and  Mother  took  us  to  see 
them. 

It  smelt  furry. 

Carol  wore  his  blue  suit.  Rosalee  wore 
an  almost  grown-up  dress.  I  wore  my  new 
middy  blouse. 

We  looked  nice. 

The  Blinded  Lady  looked  nice  too. 

She  sat  in  a  very  little  chair  in  the  middle 
of  a  very  large  room.  Her  skirts  were  silk 
and  very  fat.  They  fluffed  all  around  her 
like  a  pen-wiper.  She  had  on  a  white  lace 
cap.  There  were  violets  in  the  cap.  Her 
eyes  didn't  look  blinded. 
[113] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

We  sat  on  the  edge  of  our  chairs.  And 
stared  at  her.  And  stared.  She  didn't  mind. 

All  the  cats  came  and  purred  their  sides 
against  our  legs.  It  felt  soft  and  sort  of 
bubbly. 

The  Blinded  Lady  recited  poetry  to  us. 
She  recited  "Gray's  Elegy  in  a  Country 
Churcyhard."  She  recited  "The  Charge  of 
the  Light  Brigade."  She  recited  "Bingen  on 
the  Rhine." 

When  she  got  all  through  reciting  poetry 
she  asked  us  if  we  knew  any. 

We  did. 

We  knew  "Onward  Christian  Soldiers," 
and  "Hey  Diddle,  Diddle,  the  Cat  and  the 
Fiddle."  And  Rosalee  knew  two  verses  about 

It  was  many  and  many  a  year  ago 

In  a  kingdom  by  the  sea, 

That  a  maiden  lived  whom  you  may  know 

By  the  name  of  Annabel  Lee. 

We  hoped  the  Blinded  Lady  would  be 
pleased. 

[114] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


She  wasn't! 

The  Blinded  Lady  said  it  wasn't  nearly 
enough  just  to  know  the  first  two  verses  of 
anything!  That  you  ought  to  know  all  the 
verses  of  everything!  The  Blinded  Lady 
said  that  every  baby  just  as  soon  as  it  was 
born  ought  to  learn  every  poem  that  it  pos 
sibly  could  so  that  if  it  ever  grew  up  and 
was  blinded  it  would  have  something  to 
amuse  itself  with! 

We  promised  we  would! 

We  asked  the  Blinded  Lady  what  made 
her  blinded. 

She  said  it  was  because  she  made  all  her 
father's  shirts  when  she  was  six  years  old! 

We  promised  we  wouldn't! 

"And  now,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady,  "I'd 
like  to  have  the  Little  Dumb  Boy  come  for 
ward  and  stand  at  my  knee  so  I  can  touch 
his  face!" 

Carol  didn't  exactly  like  to  be  called  the 
Little  Dumb  Boy,  but  he  came  forward  very 
[115] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

politely  and  stood  at  the  Blinded  Lady's  knee. 
The  Blinded  Lady  ran  her  fingers  all  up  and 
down  his  face.  It  tickled  his  nose.  He 
looked  puckered. 

"It's  a  pleasant  face!"  said  the  Blinded 
Lady. 

"We  like  it!"  said  my  Father. 

"Oh  very  much!"  said  my  Mother. 

"Has  he  always  been  dumb?"  said  the 
Blinded  Lady. 

"Always,"  said  my  Mother.  "But  never 
deaf!" 

"Oh  Tush!"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 
"Don't  be  stuffy!  Afflictions  were  meant  to 
talk  about!" 

"But  Carol,  you  see,"  said  my  Mother, 
"can't  talk  about  his!  So  >we  don't!" 

"Oh— Tush.'"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

She  pushed  Carol  away.  She  thumped 
her  cane  on  the  braided  rug. 

"There's  one  here,  isn't  there,"  she  said, 
"that  hasn't  got  anything  to  be  sensitive 
[116] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


about?  Let  the  Young  Lassie  come  forward," 
she  said,  "so  I  can  touch  her  face!" 

It  made  Rosalee  very  pink  to  have  her  face 
explored. 

The  Blinded  Lady  laughed  as  she  explored 
it. 

"Ha!"  she  said.  "Age  about  seventeen? 
Gold  hair?  Sky-blue  eyes?  Complexion 
like  peaches  and  cream? — Not  much  cause 
here,"  laughed  the  Blinded  Lady,  "for  this 
Young  Lassie  ever  to  worry  when  she  looks 
in  the  glass!" 

"Oh  but  she  does!"  I  cried.  "She  worries 
herself  most  to  death  every  time  she  looks! — 
She's  afraid  her  hair  will  turn  gray  before 
Derry  comes!" 

"S-s-h!"  said  everybody. 

The  Blinded  Lady  cocked  her  head.  She 
ruffled  herself.  It  looked  like  feathers. 

"Derry?"  said  the  Blinded  Lady.  "Who's 
Derry?— A  beau?" 

My  Father  gruffed  his  throat. 
[117] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Oh  Derry's  just  a  young  friend  of  ours," 
he  said. 

"He  lives  in  Cuba,"  said  my  Mother. 

"Cuba's  an  island!"  I  said.  "It  floats  in 
water!  They  eat  bananas!  They  have  fights! 
It's  very  hot!  There's  lots  of  moonlight! 
Derry's  father  says  that  when  Rosalee's  mar 
ried  he'll  build  a ." 

"Hush,  Ruthy!"  said  my  Father.  "You've 
talked  quite  enough  already!" 

The  Blinded  Lady  patted  her  skirts.  They 
billowed  all  around  her  like  black  silk  waves. 
It  looked  funny. 

"H-m-m-mmm!"  she  said.  "Let  the  Child- 
Who's-Talked-Too-Much-Already  come  for 
ward  now  so  that  I  can  feel  her  face!" 

I  went  forward  just  as  fast  as  I  could. 

The  Blinded  Lady  touched  my  forehead. 
She  smoothed  my  nose, — my  cheeks, — my 
chin. 

"U-m-mmm,"  she  said.    "And  'Ruthy'  you 
sav  is  what  you  call  her?" 
[118] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


My  Father  twinkled  his  eyes. 

"We  have  to  call  her  something!"  he  said 
politely. 

"And  is  this  bump  on  the  forehead  a  nat 
ural  one?"  said  the  Blinded  Lady.  "Or  an 
accidental  one?" 

"Both!"  said  my  Father.  "That  is,  it's 
pre-em-i-nently  natural  for  our  daughter 
Ruthy  to  have  an  accidental  bump  on  her 
forehead." 

"And  there  are,  I  infer,"  said  the  Blinded 
Lady,  "one  or  two  freckles  on  either  side  of 
the  nose?" 

"Your  estimate,"  said  my  Father,  "is  con 


servative." 


"And  the  hair?"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 
"It  hasn't  exactly  the  texture  of  gold." 

"'Penny-colored'  we  call  it!"  said  my 
Mother. 

"And  not  exactly  a  new  penny  at  that,  is 
it?"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

"N — o,"  said  my  Mother.  "But  rather  jolly 
[119] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

all  the  same  like  a  penny  that's  just  bought 
two  sticks  of  candy  instead  of  one!" 

"And  the  nose  turns  up  a  little?"  said  the 
Blinded  Lady. 

"Well  maybe  just  a — trifle,"  admitted  my 
Mother. 

The  Blinded  Lady  stroked  my  face  all 
over  again.  "U-m-m-m,"  she  said.  "Well 
at  least  it's  something  to  be  thankful  for  that 
everything  is  perfectly  normal!"  She  put 
her  hands  on  my  shoulders.  She  shook  me  a 
little.  "Never,  never,  Ruthie,"  she  said,  "be 
so  foolish  as  to  complain  because  you're  not 
pretty!" 

"No'm!"  I  promised. 

"Put  all  the  Beauty  you  can  inside  your 
head!"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

"Yes'm!"  I  promised.  "And  I've  just 
thought  of  another  one  that  I  know!  It's  about 

You  must  wake  and  call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother 

dear, 
For  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be 

[120] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


"Foolish!"  said  the  Blinded  Lady.  "It 
wasn't  sounds  I  was  thinking  of  this  time, 
but  sights!"  She  pushed  me  away.  She 
sighed  and  sighed.  It  puffed  her  all  out 
«O— h,"  she  sighed.  "O— h!  Three  pairs 
of  Young  Eyes  and  all  the  World  waiting  to 
be  looked  at!" 

She  rocked  her  chair.  She  rocked  it  very 
slowly.  It  was  like  a  little  pain. 

"I  never  saw  anything  after  I  was  seven 
teen!"  she  said.  "And  God  himself  knows 
that  I  hadn't  seen  anywheres  near  enough 
before  that!  Just  the  little  grass  road  to  the 
village  now  and  then  on  a  Saturday  afternoon 
to  buy  the  rice  and  the  meat  and  the  matches 
and  the  soap!  Just  the  wood-lot  beyond  the 
hill-side  where  the  Arbutus  always  blossomed 
so  early!  Just  old  Neighbor  Nora's  new 
patch- work  quilt! — Just  a  young  man's  face 
that  looked  in  once  at  the  window  to  ask 
where  the  trout  brook  was!  But  even  these 
pictures,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady,  "They're 
[121] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

fading!  Fading!  Sometimes  I  can't  re 
member  at  all  whether  old  Nora's  quilt  was 
patterned  in  diamond  shapes  or  squares. 
Sometimes  I'm  not  so  powerful  sure  whether 
the  young  man's  eye  were  blue  or  brown! 
After  all,  it's  more'n  fifty  years  ago.  It's  new 
pictures  that  I  need  now,"  she  said.  "New 
pictures!" 

She  took  a  peppermint  from  a  box.  She 
didn't  pass  'em.  She  rocked  her  chair.  And 
rocked.  And  rocked.  She  smiled  a  little. 
It  wasn't  a  real  smile.  It  was  just  a  smile 
to  save  her  dress.  It  was  just  a  little  gutter 
to  catch  her  tears. 

"Oh  dear  me — Oh  dear  me — Oh  dear  me !" 
said  my  Mother. 

"Stop  your  babbling!"  said  the  Blinded 
Lady.  She  sniffed.  And  sniffed.  "But  I'll 
tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  she  said.  "These 
children  can  come  back  here  next  Saturday 
afternoon  and ." 

"Why  there's  no  reason  in  the  world,"  said 
[122] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


my  Mother,  "why  they  shouldn't  come  every 
day!" 

The  Blinded  Lady  stopped  rocking.  She 
almost  screamed. 

"Every  day?"  she  said.  "Mercy  no!  Their 
feet  are  muddy!  And  besides  it's  tiresome! 
But  they  can  come  next  Saturday  I  tell  you! 
And  I'll  give  you  a  prize!  Yes,  I'll  give  two 

(prizes — for  the  two  best  new  pictures  that 
they  bring  me  to  think  about!  And  the  first 
prize  shall  be  a  Peacock  Feather  Fan!"  said 
the  Blinded  Lady.  "And  the  second  prize 
shall  be  a  Choice  of  Cats!" 

"A  Choice  of  Cats?"  gasped  my  Father. 

The  Blinded  Lady  thumped  her  cane.  She 
thumped  it  pretty  hard.  It  made  you  glad 
your  toes  weren't  under  it. 

"Now  mind  you,  Children!"  she  said. 
"It's  got  to  be  a  new  picture!  It's  got  to  be 
something  you've  seen  yourself!  The  most 
beautifulest!  The  most  darlingest  thing  that 
you've  ever  seen!  Go  out  in  the  field  I  say  I 
[123] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Go  out  in  the  woods!  Go  up  on  the  moun 
tain  top!  And  look  around!  Nobody  I  tell 
you  can  ever  make  another  person  see  any 
thing  that  he  hasn't  seen  himself!  Now  be 
gone!"  said'  the  Blinded  Lady.  "I'm  all 
tuckered  out!" 

"Why  I'm  sure,"  said  my  Father,  "we 
never  would  have  come  at  all  if  we  hadn't 
supposed  that -." 

The  Blinded  Lady  shook  her  cane  right  at 
my  Father. 

"Don't  be  stuffy!"  she  said.    "But  get  out!" 

We  got  out. 

Old  Mary  who  washed  and  ironed  and 
cooked  for  the  Blinded  Lady  showed  us  the 
shortest  way  out.  The  shortest  way  out  was 
through  the  wood-shed.  There  were  twenty- 
seven  little  white  bowls  of  milk  on  the  wood 
shed  floor.  There  was  a  cat  at  each  bowl. 
It  sounded  lappy!  Some  of  the  cats  were 
black.  Some  of  the  cats  were  gray.  Some  of 
the  cats  were  white. 

[124] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


There  was  an  old  tortoise-shell  cat.  He 
had  a  crumpled  ear.  He  had  a  great  scar 
across  his  nose.  He  had  a  broken  leg  that 
had  mended  crooked. 

Most  of  the  cats  were  tortoise-shell  and 
black  and  gray  and  white!  It  looked1  prettyl 
It  looked  something  the  way  a  rainbow -would 
look  if  it  was  fur!  And  splashed  with  milk 
instead  of  water! 

"How  many  quarts  does  it  take?"  said  my 
Mother. 

"Quarts?"  said  Old  Mary.  She  sniffed. 
"Quarts?  It  takes  a  whole  Jersey  cow!" 

The  Blinded  Lady  called  Rosalee  to  come 
back.  I  went  with  her.  I  held  her  hand 
very  hard  for  fear  we  would  be  frightened. 

There  was  a  White  Kitten  in  the  Blinded 
Lady's  Lap.  It  was  a  white  Angora.  It 
wasn't  any  bigger  than  a  baby  rabbit.  It  had 
a  blue  ribbon  on  its  neck.  It  looked  very 
pure.  Its  face  said  "Ruthy,  I'd  like  very 
much  to  be  your  kitten!" 
[125] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

But  the  Blinded  Lady's  face  didn't  know 
I  was  there  at  all. 

"Young  Lassie,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 
"What  is  the  color  of  your  Derry's  eyes?" 

"Why — why — black!"  said  Rosalee. 

"U-m-mmm,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 
"Black?"  She  began  to  munch  a  pepper 
mint.  "U-m-m-m,"  she  said.  She  jerked 
her  head.  Her  nose  looked  pretty  sharp. 
"That's  right,  Young  Lassie!"  she  cried. 
"Love  early!  Never  mind  what  the  old  folks 
say!  Sometimes  there  isn't  any  late!  Love 
all  you  can!  Love !"  She  stopped  sud 
denly.  She  sank  back  in  her  skirts  again. 
And  rocked!  Her  nose  didn't  look  sharp  any 
more.  Her  voice  was  all  whispers.  "Lassie," 
she  whispered,  "when  you  choose  your  Pea 
cock  Feather  Fan — choose  the  one  on  the  top 
shelf!  It's  the  best  one!  It's  sandal  wood! 
It's " 

My  boots  made  a  creak. 

The  Blinded  Lady  gave  an  awful  jump! 
[126] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


"There's  someone  else  in  this  room  besides 
the  Young  Lassie!"  she  cried. 

I  was  frightened.     I  told  a  lie. 

"You're  en — tirely  mistaken!"  I  said.  I 
perked  Rosalee's  hand.  We  ran  for  our  lives. 
We  ran  as  fast  as  we  could.  It  was  pretty 
fast! 

When  we  got  out  to  the  Road  our  Father 
and  Mother  were  waiting  for  us.  They 
looked  pleasant.  We  liked  their  looks  very 
much. 

Carol  was  waiting  too.  He  had  his  eyes 
shut.  His  mouth  looked  very  surprised. 

"Carol's  trying  to  figure  out  how  it  would 
feel  to  be  blind,"  said  my  Mother. 

"Oh!"  said  Rosalee. 

"O— h!"  said  I. 

Carol  clapped  his  hands. 

Rosalee  clapped  her  hands. 

I  clapped  my  hands. 

It  was  wonderful!  We  all  thought  of  it 
at  the  same  moment  I  We  shut  our  eyes  per- 
[127] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

fectly  tight  and  played  we  were  blinded  all 
the  way  home! 

Our  Father  and  Mother  had  to  lead  us.  It 
was  pretty  bumpy!  I  peeped  some!  Rosalee 
walked  with  her  hands  stretched  way  out  in 
front  of  her  as  though  she  was  reaching  for 
something.  She  looked  like  a  picture.  It 
was  like  a  picture  of  something  very  gentle 
and  wishful  that  she  looked  like.  It  made 
me  feel  queer.  Carol  walked  with  his  nose 
all  puckere'd  up  as  though  he  was  afraid 
something  smelly  was  going  to  hit  him.  It 
didn't  make  me  feel  queer  at  all.  It  made 
me  laugh. 

It  didn't  make  my  Father  laugh. 

"Now  see  here,  you  young  Lunatics,"  said 
my  Father.  "If  you  think  your  Mother  and 
I  are  going  to  drag  you  up  the  main  village 
street — acting  like  this?" 

We  were  sorry,  we  explained!  But  it  had 
to  be! 

When  we  got  to  the  village  street  we 
[128] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


bumped  right  into  the  Old  Doctor.  We 
bumped  him  pretty  hard!  He  had  to  sit 
down!  I  climbed  into  his  lap. 

"Of  course  I  don't  know  that  it's  you,"  I 
said.  "But  I  think  it  is!" 

The  Old  Doctor  seemed  pretty  astonished. 
He  snatched  at  my  Father  and  my  Mother. 

"Great  Zounds,  Good  People!"  he  cried. 
"What  fearful  calamity  has  overtaken  your 
offspring?" 

"Absolutely  nothing  at  all,"  said  my 
Father,  "compared  to  what  is  going  to  over 
take  them  as  soon  as  I  get  them  home !" 

"We're  playing  blinded,"  said  Rosalee. 

"We've  been  to  see  the  Blinded  Lady!"  I 
explained. 

"We're  going  to  get  prizes,"  said  Rosalee. 
"Real  prizes!  A  Peacock  Feather  Fan!" 

"And  the  Choice  of  Cats!"  I  explained. 

"For  telling  the  Blinded  Lady  next  Satur 
day,"  cried  Rosalee,  "the  prettiest  thing  that 
we've  ever  seen!" 

[129] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Not  just  the  prettiest!"  I  explained.  "But 
the  most  preciousest!" 

"So  we  thought  we'd  shut  our  eyes!"  said 
Rosalee.  "All  the  way  home!  And  find  out 
what  Sight  it  was  that  we  missed  the  most! 
— Sunshine  I  think  it  is!"  said  Rosalee. 
"Sunshine  and  all  the  pretty  flickering  little 
shadows!  And  the  way  the  slender  white 
church  spire  flares  through  the  Poplar  Trees! 
Oh  I  shall  make  up  a  picture  about  sun 
shine!"  said  Rosalee. 

"Oh,  Sh— h!"  said  my  Mother.  "You 
mustn't  tell  each  other  what  you  decide. 
That  would  take  half  the  fun  and  the  sur 
prise  out  of  the  competition!" 

"Would— it?"  said  Rosalee.  "Would  it?" 
She  turned  to  the  Old  Doctor.  She  slipped 
into  the  curve  of  his  arm.  The  curve  of  his 
arm  seemed  to  be  all  ready  for  her.  She 
reached  up  and  patted  his  face.  "You  Old 
Darling,"  she  said.  "In  all  the  world  what 
[130] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


is  the  most  beautiful — est  sight  that  you  have 
ever  seen?" 

The  Old  Doctor  gave  an  awful  swallow. 

"Youth!"  he  said. 

"Oh,  youth  Fiddle-sticks!"  said  my  Father. 
"How  ever  would  one  make  a  picture  of 
that?  All  arms  and  legs!  And  wild  ideas! 
Believe  me  that  if  I  ever  once  get  these  wild 
ideas  and  legs  and  arms  home  to-day  there 
will  be " 

We  never  heard  what  there  would  be! 
'Cause  we  bumped  into  the  Store-Keeping 
Man  instead!  And  had  to  tell  him  all  about 
it! 

Nobody  kissed  the  Store-Keeping  Man. 
He  smelt  of  mice  and  crackers.  We  talked 
to  him  just  as  we  would  have  talked  to  Sugar 
or  Potatoes. 

"Mr.  Store-Keeping  Man,"  we  said.  "You 
are  very  wise!  You  have  a  store!  And 
a  wagon!  And  a  big  iron  safe!  And  fly 
papers  besides! — In  all  the  world — what  is 
[131] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

the   most  beautifulest   thing   that  you   have 
ever  seen?" 

The  Store-Keeping  Man  didn't  have  to 
worry  about  it  at  all.  He  never  even  swal 
lowed.  The  instant  he  crossed  his  hands  on 
his  white  linen  stomach  he  knew! 

"My  Bank  Book!"  he  said. 

My  Father  laughed.  "Now  you  naughty 
children,"  said  my  Father,  "I  trust  you'll 
be  satisfied  to  proceed  home  with  your  eyes 
open!" 

But  my  Mother  said  no  matter  how 
naughty  we  were  we  couldn't  go  home  with 
out  buying  pop-corn  at  the  pop-corn  stand! 

So  we  had  to  tell  the  Pop-Corn  Man  all 
about  it  tool  The  Pop-Corn  Man  was  very 
little.  He  looked  like  a  Pirate.  He  had 
black  eyes.  He  had  gold  rings  through  his 
ears.  We  loved  him  a  good  deal! 

"In  all  the  world — "  we  asked  the  Pop- 
Corn  Man,  "what  is  the  most  beautiful — est 
sight  that  you  have  ever  seen?" 
[132] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


It  took  the  Pop-Corn  Man  an  awful  long 
time  to  think!  It  took  him  so  long  that  while 
he  was  thinking  he  filled  our  paper  bags  till 
they  busted!  It  was  a  nice  bustedness! 

"The  most  beautifulest  thing — in  all  zee 
world?"  said  the  Pop-Corn  Man.  "In  all 
zee  world?  It  was  in  my  Italy!  In  such 
time  as  I  was  no  more  than  one  bambino  I 
did  see  zee  peacock,  zee  great  blue  peacock 
stride  out  through  zee  snow-storm  of  apple- 
blossoms!  And  dance  to  zee  sun!" 

"O— h,"  said  Rosalee.     "How  pretty!" 

"Pretty?"  said  the  Pop-Corn  Man.  "It 
was  to  zee  eyes  one  miracle  of  remembrances! 
Zee  blue!  Zee  gold!  Zee  dazzle!  Zee  soft 
fall  of  zee  apple-blossoms! — Though  I  live 
to  be  zee  hundred!  Though  I  go  blind! 
Though  I  go  prison!  Though  my  pop-corn 
all  burn  up!  It  fade  not!  Not  never!  That 
peacock!  That  apple-blossom!  That  shiver!" 

"Our  supper  will  all  burn  up,"  said  my 
Mother,  "if  you  children  don't  open  your 
[133] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

eyes  and  run  home!  Already  I  think  I  can 
smell  scorched  Ginger-bread!" 

We  children  all  opened  our  eyes  and  ran 
home! 

My  Mother  laughed  to  see  us  fly! 

My  Father  laughed  a  little! 

We  thought  about  the  Peacock  as  we  ran! 
We  thought  quite  a  little  about  the  Ginger 
bread!  We  wished  we  had  a  Peacock!  We 
hoped  we  had  a  Ginger-bread! 

Our  Home  looked  nice.  It  was  as  though 
we  hadn't  seen  it  for  a  long  while.  It  was  as 
though  we  hadn't  seen  anything  for  a  long 
while!  The  Garden  didn't  look  like  Just  a 
Garden  any  more!  It  looked  like  a  Bower! 
Carol's  tame  crow  came  hopping  up  the 
gravel  walk!  We  hadn't  remembered  that 
he  was  so  black!  The  sun  through  the 
kitchen  window  was  real  gold!  There  was 
Ginger-bread ! 

"Oh  dear— Oh  dear— Oh  dear!"  said  Rosa- 
lee.  "In  a  world  so  full  of  beautiful  things 
[134] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


— however  shall  we  choose  what  to  tell  the 
Blinded  Lady?" 

Carol  ran  to  the  desk.  He  took  a  pencil. 
He  took  a  paper.  He  slashed  the  words 
down.  He  held  it  out  for  us  to  see. 

"I  know  what  I'm  going  to  choose,"  said 
the  words. 

He  took  his  pencil.    He  ran  away. 

Rosalee  took  her  pencil.  She  ran  away. 
Over  her  shoulder  she  called  back  something. 
What  she  called  back  was  "Oh  Goody!  I 
know  what  I'm  going  to  choose!" 

I  took  my  Father's  pencil.  I  ran  away. 
I  didn't  run  very  far.  I  found  a  basket  in 
stead.  It  was  a  pretty  basket.  I  made  a 
nest  for  the  White  Kitten  in  case  I  should 
win  it!  I  lined  the  nest  with  green  moss. 
There  was  a  lot  of  sunshine  in  the  moss.  And 
little  blue  flowers.  I  forgot  to  come  home 
for  supper.  That's  how  I  chose  what  I  was 
going  to  write! 

[135] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

When  we  woke  up  the  next  morning  we 
all  felt  very  busy.  It  made  the  day  seem 
funny. 

It  made  every  day  that  happened  seem 
funny. 

Every  day  somebody  took  somebody's  pen 
cil  and  ran  away!  My  Mother  couldn't  find 
anything!  Not  children!  Not  pencils! 

Rosalee  took  the  Dictionary  Book  besides. 

"Anybody'd  think,"  said  my  Father,  "that 
this  was  a  Graduation  Essay  you  were  making 
instead  of  just  a  simple  little  word-picture 
fora  Blinded  Lady!" 

"Word-picture?"  said  Rosalee.  "What 
I'm  trying  to  make  is  a  Peacock  Feather 
Fan!" 

"I  wish  there  were  three  prizes  instead  of 
two!"  said  my  Mother. 

"Why?"  said  my  Father. 

Carol  came  and  kicked  his  feet  on  the  door. 
His  hands  were  full  of  stones.  He  wanted  a 
drink  of  water.  All  day  long  when  he  wasn't 
[136] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


sitting  under  the  old  Larch  Tree  with  a  pen 
cil  in  his  mouth  he  was  carrying  stones!  And 
kicking  his  feet  on  the  door!  And  asking  for 
a  drink  of  water! 

"Whatever  in  the  world,"  said  my  Mother, 
"are  you  doing  with  all  those  stones?" 

Carol  nodded  his  head  that  I  could  tell. 

"He's  building  something,"  I  said.  "Out 
behind  the  barn! — I  don't  know  what  it  is!" 

Carol  dropped  his  stones.  He  took  a  piece 
of  chalk.  He  knelt  down  on  the  kitchen 
floor.  He  wrote  big  white  letters  on  the 
floor. 

"It's  an  Ar — Rena,"  is  what  he  wrote. 

"An  Arena?"  said-  'my  Mother.  "An 
'Arena?"  She  looked  quite  sorry.  "Oh 
Laddie!"  she  said.  "I  did  so  want  you  to 
win  a  prize! — Couldn't  you  have  kept  your 
mind  on  it  just  a  day  or  two  longer?" 

It  was  the  longest  week  I  ever  knew!  It 
got  longer  every  day!  Thursday  was  twice 
as  long  as  Wednesday!  I  don't  seem  to  re- 
[137] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

member  about  Friday!  But  Saturday  came 
so  early  in  the  morning  I  wasn't  even  awake 
when  my  Mother  called  me! 

We  went  to  the  Blinded  Lady's  house 
right  after  dinner.  We  couldn't  wait  any 
longer. 

The  Blinded  Lady  pretended  she  was  sur 
prised  to  see  us. 

"Mercy  me!"  she  said.  "What?  Have 
these  children  come  again?  Muddy  feet? 
Chatter?  And  all?"  She  thumped  her  cane! 
She  rocked  her  chair!  She  billowed  her 
skirts! 

We  weren't  frightened  a  bit!  We  sat  on 
the  edge  of  our  chairs  and  laughed!  And 
laughed ! 

There  was  a  little  white  table  spread  with 
pink-frosted  cookies!  There  were  great 
crackly  glasses  of  raspberry  vinegar  and  ice! 
Old  Mary  had  on  a  white  apron! — That's 
why  we  laughed!  We  knew  we  were  ex 
pected  ! 

[138] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


My  Father  explained  it  to  everybody. 

"As  long  as  Carol  couldn't  speak  his 
piece,"  he  said,  "It  didn't  seem  fair  that  any 
of  the  children  should  speak  'em!  So  the 
children  have  all  written  their  pieces  to  read 
aloud  and " 

"But  as  long  as  Carol  wasn't  able  to  read 
his  aloud,"  cried  my  Mother,  "it  didn't  seem 
fair  that  any  of  'em  should  read  theirs  aloud ! 
So  the  children's  father  is  going  to  read  'em. 
And " 

"Without  giving  any  clue  of  course,"  said 
my  Father,  "as  to  which  child  wrote  which. 
So  that  you  won't  be  unduly  influenced  at 
all — in  any  way  by — gold^colored  hair,  for 
instance  or — freckles " 

"Or  anything!"  said  my  Mother. 

"U-m-m-m,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

"Understanding  of  course,"  said  my 
Father,  "that  we  ourselves  have  not  seen  the 
papers  yet!" 

"Nor  assisted  in  any  way  with  the  choice 
[139] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

of  subject,"  said  my  Mother.  "Nor  with  the 
treatment  of  it!" 

"U-m-m,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

"I  will  now  proceed  to  read,"  said  my 
Father. 

"So  do,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

My  Father  so  did. 

He  took  a  paper  from  his  pocket.  He 
cleared  his  throat.  He  put  on  his  eye-glasses. 
He  looked  a  little  surprised. 

"The  first  one,"  he  said,  "seems  to  be  about 
'Ginger-bread'!" 

"Ginger-bread?"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

"Ginger-bread!"  said  my  Father. 

"Read  it!"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

"I  will!"  said  my  Father. 

Ginger-bread  is  very  handsome!  It's  so 
brown!  And  every  time  you  eat  a  piece 
you  have  to  have  another!  That  shows  its 
worth  as  well  as  its  handsomeness!  And 
besides  you  can  smell  it  a  long  way  off 
when  you're  coming  home!  Especially 

[140] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


when  you're  coming  home  from  school!  It 
has  molasses  in  it  too.  And  that's  very  in 
structive!  As  well  as  ginger!  And  other 
spices!  The  Geography  is  full  of  them! 
Molasses  comes  from  New  Orleans! 
Spices  come  from  Asia!  Except  Jamaica 
Ginger  comes  from  Drug  Stores!  There 
are  eggs  in  ginger-bread  too!  And  that's 
Natural  History  and  very  important! 
They  have  to  be  hen's  eggs  I  think!  I  had 
some  guineas  once  and  they  looked  like 
chipmunks  when  they  hatched.  You  can't 
make  ginger-bread  out  of  anything  that 
looks  like  chipmunks!  It  takes  three  eggs 
to  make  ginger-bread!  And  one  cupful  of 
sugar!  And  some  baking  soda!  And . 

"Oh  Tush!"  said  the  Blinded  Lady.  "That 
isn't  a  picture!  It's  a  recipe! — Read  an 
other!" 

"Dear  me!  Dear  me!"  said  my  Mother. 
"Now  some  child  is  suffering!"  She  looked 
all  around  to  see  which  child  it  was. 

Carol  kicked  Rosalee.  Rosalee  kicked  me. 
[141] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

I  kicked  Carol.  We  all  looked  just  as  queer 
as  we  could  outside. 

"Read  on!"  thumped  the  Blinded  Lady. 

My  Father  read  on. 

"This  next  one,"  he  said,  "seems  to  be 
about  Soldiers!" 

"Soldiers?"  said  the  Blinded  Lady.  "Sol 
diers?"  She  sat  up  very  straight.  She 
cocked  her  head  on  one  side.  "Read  it!"  she 
said. 

"I'm  reading  it!"  said  my  Father. 

The  most  scrumptious  sight  I've  ever 
seen  in  by  life  is  Soldiers  Marching!  I  saw 
them  once  in  New  York!  It  was  glorious! 
All  the  reds  and  the  blues  and  the  browns 
of  the  Uniforms!  And  when  the  Band 
played  all  the  different  instruments  it 
seemed  as  though  it  was  really  gold  and 
silver  music  they  were  playing!  It  makes 
you  feel  so  brave!  And  so  unselfish!  But 
most  of  all  it  makes  you  wish  you  were  a 
milk-white  pony  with  diamond  hoofs!  So 
that  you  could  sparkle!  And  prance! 
[142] 


THE   BLINDED    LADY 


And  rear!  And  run  away  just  for  funf 
And  run  and  run  and  run  down  clattery 
streets  and  through  black  woods  and  across 
green  pastures  snorting  fire — till  you  met 
more  Soldiers  and  more  Bands  and  more 
Gold  and  Silver  Music!  So  that  you  could 
prance  and  sparkle  and  rear  and  run  away 
all  over  again, — with  flags  flying! 

"U-m-m,"  said  the  Blinded  Lady.  "That 
is  pretty!  And  spirited  too! — But — But  it 
doesn't  exactly  warm  the  heart. — And  no  one 
but  a  boy,  anyway,  would  want  to  think  about 
soldiers  every  day. — Read  the  next  one!"  said 
the  Blinded  Lady. 

"Oh  all  right,"  said  my  Father.  "Here's 
the  last  one." 

"Read  it!"  said  the  Blinded  Lady. 

"I'm  trying  to!"  said  my  Father.  He 
cleared  his  throat  and  put  on  his  eye-glasses 
all  over  again.  "Ahem!"  he  said. 

"The  most  beautifulest  thing  I've  ever 
[143] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

seen  in  all  my  life  is  my  Mother's  face. 
It's  so " 

"What?"  cried  my  Mother. 

My  Father  looked  at  her  across  the  top 
of  his  glasses.  He  smiled.  "Your  face!"  he 
said. 

"W — what?"  stammered  my  Mother. 

My  Father  cleared  his  throat  and  began 
all  over  again. 

The  most  beautifulest  thing  I've  ever 
seen  in  all  my  life  is  my  Mother's  face! 
It's  so  pleasant!  It  tries  to  make  every 
thing  so  pleasant!  When  you  go  away  it 
smiles  you  away!  When  you  come  home 
it  smiles  you  home!  When  you're  sick  it 
smiles  you  well!  When  you're  bad  it 
smiles  you  good!  It's  so  pretty  too!  It 
has  soft  hair  all  full  of  little  curls!  It  has 
brown  eyes!  It  has  the  sweetest  ears! — It 
has  a  little  hat!  The  jolliest  little  hat!  All 
trimmed  with  do-dabs!  And  teeny  pink 
[144] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


roses!     And  there's  a  silver  ribbon  on  it! 
And 

"My  Mother  had  a  hat  like  thatl"  cried 
the  Blinded  Lady. 

"Did  she?"  said  my  Mother.  Her  face 
still  looked  pretty  queer  and  surprised. 

The  Blinded  Lady  perked  way  forward  in 
her  chair.  She  seemed  all  out  of  breath. 
She  talked  so  fast  it  almost  choked  her! 

"Yes!  Just  exactly  like  that!"  cried  the 
^Blinded  Lady.  "My  Mother  bought  it  in 
Boston!  It  cost  three  dollars!  My  Father 
thought  it  was  an  awful  price! — She  wore 
it  with  a  lavender  dress  all  sprigged  with 
yellow  leaves!  She  looked  like  an  angel  in 
it!  She  <was  an  angel!  Her  hair  was  brown 
too! — I  haven't  thought  of  it  for  ages! — And 
all  full  of  little  curls!  She  had  the  kindest 
smile!  The  minister  said  it  was  worth  any 
two  of  his  sermons!  And  when  folks  were 
sick  she  went  anywhere  to  help  them  I  Any- 
[145] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

where! — She  went  twenty  miles  once!  We 
drove  the  old  white  horse!  I  can  see  it  all! 
My  brothers'  and  sisters'  faces  at  the  window 
waving  good-bye!  My  father  cautioning  us 
through  his  long  gray  beard  not  to  drive  too 
fast! — The  dark  shady  wood's  road!  The 
little  bright  meadows! — A  blue  bird  that 
flashed  across  our  heads  at  the  watering 
trough!  The  gay  village  streets!  A  red 
plaid  ribbon  in  a  shop  window!  The  patch 
on  a  peddler's  shoe!  The  great  hills  over 
beyond! — There  was  hills  all  around  us! — 
My  sister  Amy  married  a  man  from  way  over 
beyond!  He  was  different  from  us!  His 
father  sailed  the  seas!  He  brought  us  dishes 
and  fans  from  China!  When  my  sister  Amy 
was  married  she  wore  a  white  t:repe  shawl. 
There  was  a  peacock  embroidered  in  one 
corner  of  it!  It  was  pretty!  We  curled  her 
hair!  There  were  yellow  roses  in  bloom! 

There  was  a  blue  larkspur! " 

[146] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


The  Blinded  Lady  sank  back  in  her  chair. 
She  gave  a  funny  little  gasp. 

"I  remember!"  she  gasped.  "The  Young 
Man's  eyes  were  blue!  His  teeth  were  like 
pearls!  When  he  asked  the  way  to  the  trout 
brook  he  laughed  and  said " 

The  Blinded  Lady's  cheeks  got  all  pink. 
She  clapped  her  hands.  She  sank  back  into 
her  Skirts.  Her  eyes  looked  awful  queer. 

"I  see  everything!"  she  cried.  "Every 
thing! — Give  the  Peacock  Feather  Fan  to  the 
Magician!" 

Rosalee  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at 
me.  I  looked  at  Rosalee. 

"To  the  Magician?"  said  my  Father. 

"To  the  Magician?"  said  my  Mother. 

"To  the  Young  Darling  who  wrote  about 
her  Mother's  Face!"  thumoed  the  Blinded 
Lady. 

My  Father  twisted  his  mouth. 

"Will  the  'Young  Darling'  who  wrote 
about  her  Mother's  Face  please  come  for- 
[147] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

ward — and  get  the  Peacock  Feather  Fan!" 
said  my  Father. 

Carol  came  forward.  He  looked  very 
ashamed.  He  stubbed  his  toe  on  the  braided 
rug. 

"It  seems  to  be  our  son  Carol,"  said  my 
Father,  "who  conjured  up  the  picture  of — 
of  the  blue  larkspur!" 

"What?"  said  the  Blinded  Lady.    "What?" 

She  tapped  her  foot  on  the  floor.  She 
frowned  her  brows.  "Well — well — well," 
she  said.  "It  wasn't  at  all  what  I  intended! 
Not  at  all!— Well— well— well!"  She  began 
to  rock  her  chair.  "But  after  all,"  she  said, 
"an  agreement  is  an  agreement!  And  the 
First  Prize  is  the  First  Prize! — Let  the  Little 
Dumb  Boy  step  forward  to  the  Chinese 
Cabinet  and  choose  his  Peacock  Feather 
Fan!" 

Rosalee  gave  a  little  cry.     It  sounded  al 
most    like    tears.      She    ran    forward.      She 
whispered  in  Carol's  ear. 
[148] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


Carol  opened  his  eyes.  He  took  a  chair. 
He  pushed  it  against  the  cabinet.  He 
climbed  up  to  the  highest  shelf.  There  was 
a  fan  as  big  as  the  moon!  It  was  sandal- 
wood!  It  was  carved!  It  was  all  peacock 
feathers!  Blue!  Bronze!  It  was  beautiful! 
He  took  it!  He  went  back  to  his  seat!  His 
mouth  smiled  a  little!  But  he  carried  the 
Fan  as  though  it  was  hot! 

"The  second  prize  of  course,"  said  the 
Blinded  Lady,  "goes  to  the  child  who  wrote 
about  the  soldiers!" 

Rosalee  stepped  forward. 

The  Blinded  Lady  took  her  hand.  "It  is 
not  exactly  as  I  had  wished,"  said  the  Blinded 
Lady.  "But  a  Choice  of  Cats  is  a  Choice  of 
Cats! — You  will  find  them  all  in  the  wood 
shed  Young  Lassie — awaiting  your  decision! 
Choose  wisely!  A  good  cat  is  a  great  com 
fort!" 

We  went  to  the  wood-shed  to  help  Rosa- 
lee  choose  her  cat. 

[149] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

All  the  cats  purred  to  be  chosen.  It  was 
sad.  My  Father  said  it  wasn't.  My  Father 
said  one  cat  was  plenty. 

The  White  Persian  Kitten  lay  on  a  soap 
box.  It  looked  like  Easter  Lilies.  Rosalee 
saw  it.  She  forgot  all  about  the  fan. 

Carol  didn't  forget  about  the  fan.  He 
stamped  his  foot.  He  shook  his  head.  He 
took  Rosalee's  hand  and  led  her  to  the  old 
Tortoise  Shell  Cat.  He  put  the  old  Tortoise 
Shell  cat  in  Rosalee's  arms.  Rosalee  looked 
pretty  surprised.  So  did  the  cat. 

My  sorrow  made  tears  in  my  eyes.  My 
Mother  came  running. 

"Bless  your  heart,  Ruthy-Girl,"  she  said. 
"You  shall  have  a  Ginger-bread  tonight  that 
is  a  Picture!"  She  put  a  little  box  in  my 
hand.  There  was  a  little  gold  pencil  in  the 
box.  It  was  my  Mother's  best  little  gold 
pencil  with  the  agate  stone  in  the  end. 
"Here's  Mother's  prize,  Darling,"  she  said. 
"The  Prize  Mother  brought  for  whichever 
[150] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


child  didn't  win  the  Blinded  Lady's  prizes! 
Don't  you  worry!  Mother'll  always  have  a 
prize  for  whichever  child  doesn't  win  the 
other  prizes!" 

My  sorrow  went  away. 

We  all  ran  back  to  the  Blinded  Lady  to 
thank  her  for  our  Beautiful  Party.  'And  for 
the  prizes. 

My  Father  made  a  speech  to  the  Blinded 
Lady. 

"But  after  all,  my  dear  Madam,"  he  said, 
"I  am  afraid  you  have  been  cheated!  —  It 
was  'new'  pictures  that  you  wanted,  not  old 
ones!" 

The  Blinded  Lady  whacked  at  him  with 
her  cane.  She  was  awful  mad. 

"How  do  you  know  what  I  want?"  she 
said.  "How  do  you  know  what  I  want?" 

My  Father  and  my  Mother  looked  at  each 
other.  They  made  little  laughs  with  their 
eyes. 

The  Blinded  Lady  smoothed  herself. 
[151] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"But  I  certainly  am  flabbergasted,"  she 
said,  "about  the  Old  Tom  Cat!  Whatever  in 
the  world  made  the  Young  Lassie  choose  the 
old  battle-scarred  Tom?" 

Rosalee  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at 
me.  I  looked  at  the  Old  Tom. 

"Maybe  she  chose  him  for — for  his  his- 
toricalness,"  said  my  Mother. 

" Maybe,"  said  my  Father. 

We  started  for  the  door.  We  got  as  far 
as  the  Garden.  I  remembered  something 
suddenly.  I  clapped  my  hands.  I  laughed 
right  out!  "No!  She  didn't  either!"  I  said. 
"She  chose  him  for  Carol's  Ar — Rena — I 
bet'cher!  Carol's  going  to  have  him  for  a 
Cham — peen!  We'll  fight  him  every  after 
noon!  Maybe  there'll  be  tickets!" 

"Tickets?"   said  my  Father. 

"Oh  my  dears,"  said  my  Mother.  "A  cat- 
fight  is  a  dreadful  thing!" 

My  Father  looked  at  the  Old  Tom!  At 
his  battered  ears!  At  his  scarred  nose!  At 
[152] 


THE    BLINDED    LADY 


his  twisted  eye !    The  Old  Tom  looked  at  my 
Father!    They  both  smiled! 

"Infamous!"  said  my  Father.  "How  much 
will  the  tickets  be?" 

We  went  home.  We  went  home  through 
the  fields  instead  of  through  the  village. 

Carol  held  the  Peacock  Feather  Fan  as 
though  he  was  afraid  it  would  bite  him. 

Rosalee  carried  the  Old  Tom  as  though 
she  knew  it  would  bite  her. 

When  we  got  to  the  Willow  Tree  they 
changed  prizes.  It  made  a  difference. 

Rosalee  carried  the  Peacock  Feather  as 
though  it  was  a  magic  sail.  She  tipped  it  to 
the  breeze.  She  pranced  it.  And  danced  it. 
It  looked  fluffy. 

Carol  carried  the  Old  Tom  hugged  tight 
to  his  breast  The  Old  Tom  looked  very  his 
torical.  Carol  looked  very  shining  and  pure. 
He  looked  like  a  choir-boy  carrying  his 
singing  book.  He  looked  as  though  his  voice 
would  be  very  high. 

[153] 


My  Father  and  Mother  carried  each 
other's  hands.  They  laughed  very  softly  to 
themselves  as  though  they  knew  pleasant 
things  that  no  one  else  knew. 

My  hand  would  have  felt  pretty  lonely 
if  I  hadn't  had  the  little  gold  pencil  to  carry. 

I  felt  pretty  tired.  I  walked  pretty  far 
behind. 

I  decided  that  when  I  grew  up  I'd  be  a 
Writer!  So  that  no  matter  what  happened 
I'd  always  have  a  gold  pencil  in  my  hand  and 
couldn't  be  lonely! 


[154] 


THE   GIFT  OF  THE 
PROBABLE   PLACES 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

MY  MOTHER  says   that  everybody 
in  the  world  has  got  some  special 
Gift.     Some  people  have  one  kind 
and  some  have  another. 

I  got  my  skates  and  dictionary-book  last 
Spring  when  I  was  nine.  I've  always  had  my 
freckles. 

My  brother  Carol's  Gift  is  Being  Dumb. 
No  matter  what  anybody  says  to  him  he 
doesn't  have  to  answer  'em. 

There  was  an  old  man  in  our  town  named 
Old  Man  Smith. 

Old  Man  Smith  had  a  wonderful  Gift. 

It  wasn't  a  Christmas  Gift  like  toys  and 
games.  It  wasn't  a  Birthday  Gift  all  stock 
ings  and  handkerchiefs. 

It  was  the  Gift  of  Finding  Things! 

He  called  it  "The  Gift  of  the  Probable 
Places." 

[157] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Most  any  time  when  you  lost  anything  he 
could  find  it  for  you.  He  didn't  find  it  by 
floating  a  few  tea-leaves  in  a  cup.  Or  by 
trying  to  match  cards.  Or  by  fooling  with 
silly  things  like  ghosts.  He  didn't  even  find 
it  with  his  legs.  He  found  it  with  his  head. 
He  found  it  by  thinking  very  hard  with  his 
head. 

People  came  from  miles  around  to  borrow 
his  head.  He  always  charged  everybody  just 
the  same  no  matter  what  it  was  that  they'd 
lost.  One  dollar  was  what  he  charged.  It 
was  just  as  much  trouble  to  him  he  said  to 
think  about  a  thimble  that  was  lost  as  it  was 
to  think  about  an  elephant  that  was  lost. — I 
never  knew  anybody  who  lost  an  elephant. 

When  the  Post  Master's  Wife  lost  her 
diamond  ring  she  hunted  more  than  a  hun 
dred  places  for  it!  She  was  most  distracted! 
She  thought  somebody  had  stolen  it  from 
her!  She  hunted  it  in  all  the  Newspapers! 
She  hunted  it  in  all  the  stores!  She  hunted 
[158] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

it  all  up  and  down  the  Village  streets!  She 
hunted  it  in  the  Depot  carriage!  She  hunted 
it  in  the  Hired  Girl's  trunk!  Miles  and 
miles  and  miles  she  must  have  hunted  it  with 
her  hands  and  with  her  feet! 

But  Old  Man  Smith  found  it  for  her  with 
out  budging  an  inch  from  his  wheel-chair! 
Just  with  his  head  alone  he  found  it!  Just 
by  asking  her  a  question  that  made  her  mad 
he  found  it!  The  question  that  made  her 
mad  was  about  her  Baptismal  name. — Her 
Baptismal  name  was  Mehetabelle  Euphemia. 

"However  in  the  world,"  said  Old  Man 
Smith,  "did  you  get  such  a  perfectly  hideous 
name  as  Mehetabelle  Euphemia?" 

The  Post  Master's  wife  was  madder  than 
Scat!  She  wrung  her  hands.  She  snapped 
her  thumbs!  She  crackled  her  finger-joints! 

"Never — 'Never,"  she  said  had  she  been 
"so  insulted!" 

"U-m-m-m — exactly  what  I  thought,"  said 
Old  Man  Smith.  "Now  just  when — if  you 
[159] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

can  remember,  was  the  last  time  that  you 
felt  you'd  never  been  so  insulted  before?" 

"Insulted?"  screamed  the  Post  Master's 
Wife.  "Why,  I  haven't  been  so  insulted  as 
this  since  two  weeks  ago  last  Saturday  when 
I  was  out  in  my  back  yard  under  the  Mul 
berry  Tree  dyeing  my  old  white  dress  peach- 
pink!  And  the  Druggist's  Wife  came  along 
and  asked  me  if  I  didn't  think  I  was  just  a 
little  bit  too  old  to  be  wearing  peach-pink? 
—Me— Too  Old?  Me?"  screamed  the  Post 
Master's  Wife. 

"U-m-m,"  said  Old  Man  Smith.  "Pink, 
you  say?  Pink? — A  little  powdered  Cochi 
neal,  I  suppose?  And  a  bit  of  Cream  o' 
Tartar?  And  more  than  a  bit  of  Alum?  It's 
a  pretty  likely  combination  to  make  the 
fingers  slippery. — And  a  lady  what  crackles 
her  finger-joints  so  every  time  she's  mad, — 
and  snaps  her  thumbs — and? — Yes!  Under 
the  Mulberry  Tree  is  a  very  Probable  Place! 
— One  dollar,  please!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 
[160] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

And  when  the  Grocer's  Nephew  got  sus 
pended  from  college  for  sitting  up  too  late  at 
night  and  getting  headaches,  and  came  to 
spend  a  month  with  his  Uncle  and  couldn't 
find  his  green  plaid  overcoat  when  it  was 
time  to  go  home  he  was  perfectly  positive 
that  somebody  had  borrowed  it  from  the 
store!  Or  that  he'd  dropped  it  out  of  the 
delivery  wagon  working  over-time!  Or  that 
he'd  left  it  at  the  High  School  Social! 

But  Old  Man  Smith  found  it  for  him  just 
by  glancing  at  his  purple  socks!  And  his 
plaid  necktie.  And  his  plush  waistcoat. 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course,  it's  perfectly  possible," 
said  Old  Man  Smith,  "that  you  dropped  it 
from  the  basket  of  a  balloon  on  your  way 
to  a  Missionary  Meeting. — But  have  you 
looked  in  the  Young  Widow  Gayette's  back 
hall?  'Bout  three  pegs  from  the  door? — 
Where  the  shadows  are  fairly  private? — One 
dollar,  please!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 

And  when  the  Old  Preacher  lost  the  Hymn 
[161] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Book  that  George  Washington  had  given  his 
grandfather,  everybody  started  to  take  up 
the  floor  of  the  church  to  see  if  it  had  fallen 
down  through  a  crack  in  the  pulpit! 

But  Old  Man  Smith  sent  a  boy  running  to 
beg  'em  not  to  tear  down  the  church  till 
they'd  looked  in  the  Old  Lawyer's  pantry, — 
'bout  the  second  shelf  between  the  ice  chest 
and  the  cheese  crock.  Sunday  evening  after 
meeting  was  rather  a  lean  time  with  Old 
Preachers  he  said  he'd  always  noticed. — And 
Old  Lawyers  was  noted  for  their  fat  larders. 
— And  there  were  certain  things  about  cheese 
somehow  that  seemed  to  be  soothin'  to  the 
memory. 

"Why,  how  perfectly  extraordinary!"  said 
everybody. 

"One  dollar,  please!"  said  Old  Man  Smith 
again. 

And  when  Little  Tommy  Bent  ran  away 
to  the  city  his  Mother  hunted  all  the  hospitals 
for  him!  And  made  'em  drag  the  river! 
[162] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

And  wore  a  long  black  veil  all  the  time! 
And  howled ! 

But  Old  Man  Smith  said,  "Oh  Shucks! 
It  ain't  at  all  probable,  is  it,  that  he  was 
aimin'  at  hospitals  or  rivers  when  he  went 
away? — What's  the  use  of  worryin'  over  the 
things  he  'weren't  aimin'  at  till  you've  in 
vestigated  the  things  he  was?" 

"Aimin'  at?"  sobbed  Mrs.  Bent.  "Aimin* 
at? — Who  in  the  world  could  ever  tell  what 
any  little  boy  was  aimin'  at?" 

"And  there's  something  in  that,  too!"  said 
Old  Man  Smith.  "What  did  he  look  like?" 

"Like  his  father,"  said  Mrs.  Bent. 

"U-m-m.  Plain,  you  mean?"  said  Old 
Man  Smith. 

"He  was  only  nine  years  old,"  sobbed  Mrs. 
Bent.  "But  he  did  love  Meetings  so!  No 
matter  what  they  was  about  he  was  always 
hunting  for  some  new  Meetings  to  go  to! 
He  just  seemed  naturally  to  dote  hisself  on 
any  crowd  of  people  that  was  all  facing  the 
[163] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

other  way  looking  at  somebody  else!  He 
had  a  little  cowlick  at  the  back  of  his  neck!" 
sobbed  Mrs.  Bent.  "It  was  a  comical  little 
cowlick!  People  used  to  laugh  at  it!  He 
never  liked  to  sit  any  place  where  there  was 
anybody  sitting  behind  him!" 

"Now  you're  talking!"  said  Old  Man 
Smith.  "Will  he  answer  to  the  name  of 
'Little  Tommy  Bent?' " 

"He  will  not!"  said  Mrs.  Bent.  "He's 
that  stubborn!  He's  exactly  like  his  Father!" 

Old  Man  Smith  wrote  an  entirely  new 
advertisement  to  put  in  the  papers.  It  didn't 
say  anything  about  Rivers!  Or  Hospitals! 
Or  'Dead  or  Alive!'  It  just  said: 

LOST:  In  the  back  seat  of  Most  Any  Meeting, 
a  Very  Plain  Little  Boy.  Will  not 
answer  to  the  name  of  "Little  Tommy 
Bent."  Stubborn,  like  his  Father. 

"We'll   put  that  in   about  being  'stubborn/ 
said    Old    Man    Smith,    "because   it   sounds 
quaint  and  will  interest  people." 
[164] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

"It  won't  interest  Mr.  Bent!"  sobbed  Mrs. 
Bent.  "And  it  seems  awful  cruel  to  make  it 
so  public  about  the  child's  being  plain!" 

Old  Man  Smith  spoke  coldly  to  her. 

"Would  you  rather  lose  him — handsome," 
he  said.  "Or  find  him — plain?" 

Mrs.  Bent  seemed  to  think  that  she'd  rather 
find  him  plain. 

She  found  him  within  two  days!  He  was 
awful  plain.  His  shoes  were  all  worn  out. 
And  his  stomach  was  flat.  He  was  at  a 
meeting  of  men  who  sell  bicycles  to  China. 
The  men  were  feeling  pretty  sick.  They'd 
sent  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  he-bicycles 
to  China  and  the  Chinamen  couldn't  ride 
'em  on  account  of  their  skirts! — It  was  the 
smell  of  an  apple  in  a  man's  pocket  that  made 
Tommy  Bent  follow  the  man  to  the  meeting. 
— And  he  answered  to  every  name  except 
'Tommy  Bent'  so  they  knew  it  was  he! 

"Mercy!     What  this  experience  has  cost 
me!"  sobbed  Mrs.  Bent. 
[165] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"One  dollar,  please!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 

"It's  a  perfect  miracle!"  said  everybody. 

"It  'tain't  neither!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 
"It's  plain  Hoss  Sense!  There's  laws  about 
findin'  things  same  as  there  is  about  losin' 
'em!  Things  has  got  regular  habits  and 
haunts  same  as  Folks!  And  Folks  has  got 
regular  haunts  and  habits  same  as  birds  and 
beasts!  It  ain't  the  Possible  Places  that  I'm 
arguin'  about! — The  world  is  full  of  'em! 
But  the  Probable  Places  can  be  reckoned 
most  any  time  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand! — 
That's  the  trouble  with  folks!  They're 
always  wearin'  themselves  out  on  the  Pos 
sible  Places  and  never  gettin'  round  at  all 
to  the  Probable  ones! — Now,  it's  perfectly 
possible,  of  course,"  said  Old  Man  Smith, 
"that  you  might  find  a  trout  in  a  dust-pan  or 
a  hummin'  bird  in  an  Aquarium — or  meet 
a  panther  in  your  Mother's  parlor! — But  the 
chances  are,"  said  Old  Man  Smith,  "that  if 
you  really  set  out  to  organize  a  troutin'  ex- 
[166] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

pedition  or  a  hummin'  bird  collection  or  a 
panther  hunt — you  wouldn't  look  in  the  dust 
pan  or  the  Aquarium  or  your  Mother's 
parlor  first! — When  you  lose  something  that 
ain't  got  no  Probable  Place — then  I  sure  am 
stumped!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 

But  when  Annie  Halliway  lost  her  mind, 
everybody  in  the  village  was  stumped  about 
it.  And  everything  was  all  mixed  up.  It 
was  Annie  Halliway's  mother  and  Annie 
Halliway's  father  and  Annie  Halliway's 
uncles  and  aunts  and  cousins  and  friends  who 
did  all  the  worrying  about  it!  While  Annie 
Halliway  herself  didn't  seem  to  care  at  all! 
But  just  sat  braiding  things  into  her  hair! 

Some  people  said  it  was  a  railroad  acci 
dent  that  she  lost  her  mind  in.  Some  said  it 
was  because  she'd  studied  too  hard  in  Europe. 
Some  said  it  was  an  earthquake.  Everybody 
said  something. 

Annie  Halliway's  father  and  mother  were 
awful  rich.  They  brought  her  home  in  a 
[167] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

great  big  ship!  And  gave  her  twelve  new 
dresses  and  the  front  parlor  and  a  brown 
piano!  But  she  wouldn't  stay  in  any  of  them! 
All  she'd  stay  in  was  a  little  old  blue  silk 
dress  she'd  had  before  she  went  away! 

Carol  and  I  got  excused  from  school  one 
day  because  we  were  afraid  our  heads  might 
ache,  and  went  to  see  what  it  was  all  about. 

It  seemed  to  be  about  a  great  many  things. 

But  after  we'd  walked  all  around  Annie 
Halliway  twice  and  looked  at  her  all  we 
could  and  asked  how  old  she  was  and  found 
out  that  she  was  nineteen,  we  felt  suddenly 
very  glad  about  something. — We  felt  sud 
denly  very  glad  that  if  she  really  was  obliged 
to  lose  anything  out  of  her  face,  it  was  her 
mind  that  she  lost!  Instead  of  her  eyes!  Or 
her  nose!  Or  her  red,  red  mouth!  Or  her 
cunning  little  ears!  She  was  so  pretty! 

She  seemed  to  like  us  very  much  too.  She 
asked  us  to  come  again. 

We  said  we  would. 

[168] 


THE    GIFT    OF    THE    PROBABLE    PLACES 

We  did. 

We  went  every  Saturday  afternoon. 

They  let  us  take  her  to  walk  if  we  were 
careful.  We  didn't  walk  her  in  the  village 
because  her  hair  looked  so  funny.  We 
walked  her  in  the  pleasant  fields.  We  gath 
ered  flowers.  We  gathered  ferns.  We  ex 
plored  birds.  We  built  little  gurgling  har 
bors  in  the  corners  of  the  brook.  Sometimes 
we  climbed  hills  and  looked  off.  Annie 
Halliway  seemed  to  like  to  climb  hills  and 
look  off. 

It  was  the  day  we  climbed  the  Sumac  Hill 
that  we  got  our  Idea! 

It  was  a  nice  day! 

Annie  Halliway  wore  her  blue  dress!  And 
her  blue  scarf!  Her  hair  hung  down  like 
two  long,  loose  black  ropes  across  her  shoul 
ders!  Blue  Larkspur  was  braided  into  her 
hair!  And  a  little  tin  trumpet  tied  with  blue 
ribbon!  And  a  blue  Japanese  fan!  And  a 
blue  lead  pencil!  And  a  blue  silk  stocking! 
[169] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

And  a  blue-handled  basket!  She  looked  like 
a  Summer  Christmas  Tree.  It  was  pretty. 

There  were  lots  of  clouds  in  the  sky.  They 
seemed  very  near.  It  sort  of  puckered  your 
nose. 

"Smell  the  clouds!"  said  Annie  Halliway. 

Somebody  had  cut  down  a  tree  that  used 
to  be  there.  It  made  a  lonely  hole  in  the 
edge  of  the  hill  and  the  sky.  Through  the 
lonely  hole  in  the  edge  of  the  hill  and  the 
sky  you  could  see  miles  and  miles.  Way 
down  in  the  valley  a  bright  light  glinted. 
It  was  as  though  the  whole  sun  was  trying 
to  bore  a  hole  in  a  tiny  bit  of  glass  and 
couldn't  do  it. 

Annie  Halliway  stretched  out  her  arms 
towards  the  glint.  And  started  for  it. 

I  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at  me. 
We  knew  where  the  glint  was.  It  was  Old 
Man  Smith's  house.  Old  Man  Smith's 
house  was  built  of  tea  cups!  And  broken 
tumblers!  And  bits  of  plates!  First  of  all, 
[170] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

of  course,  it  was  built  of  clay  or  mud  or 
something  soft  and  loose  like  that!  And 
while  it  was  still  soft  he  had  stuck  it  all  full 
of  people's  broken  dishes!  So  that  wherever 
you  went  most  all  day  long  the  sun  was  try 
ing  to  bore  a  hole  in  it! — And  couldn't  do  it! 

It  seemed  to  be  the  glint  that  Annie  Halli- 
way  wanted.  She  thought  it  was  something 
new  to  braid  in  her  hair,  I  guess.  She  kept 
right  on  walking  towards  it  with  her  arms 
stretched  out. 

Carol  kept  right  on  looking  at  me.  His 
mouth  was  all  turned  white.  Sometimes 
when  people  talk  to  me  I  can't  understand 
at  all  what  they  mean.  But  when  Carol 
looks  at  me  with  his  mouth  all  turned  white, 
I  always  know  just  exactly  what  he  means! 
It  made  my  own  mouth  feel  pretty  white! 

"We  shall  be  punished!"  I  said.  "We'll 
surely  be  punished  if  we  do  it!" 

My  brother  Carol  smiled.  It  was  quite  a 
white  smile.  He  put  out  his  hand.  I  took 
[171] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

it.    We  ran  down  the  hill  after  young  Annie 
Halliway!    And  led  her  to  the  glint! 

Old  Man  Smith  was  pretty  surprised  to 
see  us.  He  was  riding  round  the  door-yard 
in  his  wheel  chair.  He  rolled  his  chair  to 
the  gate  to  meet  us.  The  chair  squeaked  a 
good  deal.  But  even  if  he'd  wanted  to  walk 
he  couldn't.  The  reason  why  he  couldn't 
is  because  he's  dumb  in  his  legs. 

"What  in  the  world  do  you  want?"  he 
asked. 

I  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at  me. 
He  kicked  me  in  the  shins.  My  thoughts 
came  very  quickly. 

"We've  brought  you  a  young  lady  that's 
lost  her  mind!"  I  said.  "What  can  you  do 
about  it?" 

Something  happened  all  at  once  that  made 
our  legs  feel  queer.  What  happened  was 
that  Old  Man  Smith  didn't  seem  pleased  at 
all  about  it.  He  snatched  his  long  white 
beard  in  his  hands. 

[172] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

"Lost  her  mind?"  he  said.  "Her  mind? 
Her  mind?  How  dar'st  you  mock  me?"  he 
cried. 

"We  darsn't  at  all!"  I  explained.  "On 
account  of  the  bears!  We've  read  all  about 
the  mocking  bears  in  a  book!" 

He  seemed  to  feel  better. 

"You  mean  in  the  good  book?"  he  said. 
"The  Elijah  bears,  you  mean?" 

"Well,  it  was  quite  a  good  book,"  I  ad 
mitted.  "Though  my  Father's  got  lots  of 
books  on  Tulips  that  have  heap  prettier 
covers !" 

"U — m — m — m,"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 
"U — m — m — m .  U — m m m." 

And    all    the    time    that    he    was    saying 

"U — m m m —     U — m m m," 

young  Annie  Halliway  was  knocking  down 
his  house.  With  a  big  chunk  of  rock  she 
was  chipping  it  off.  It  was  a  piece  of  blue 
china  cup  with  the  handle  still  on  it  that  she 
chipped  off  first. 

[173] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

When  Old  Man  Smith  saw  it  he  screamed. 

"Woman!  What  are  you  doing?"  he 
screamed. 

"Her  name  is  Young  Annie  Halliway,"  I 
explained. 

"Young  Annie  Halliway — Come  Here!" 
screamed  Old  Man  Smith. 

Young  Annie  Halliway  came  here.  She 
was  perfectly  gentle  about  it.  All  her  ways 
were  gentle.  She  sat  down  on  the  ground 
at  Old  Man  Smith's  feet.  She  lifted  her 
eyes  to  Old  Man  Smith's  eyes.  She  looked 
holy.  But  all  the  time  that  she  looked  so 
holy  she  kept  right  on  braiding  the  handle 
of  the  blue  china  cup  into  her  hair.  It 
cranked  against  the  tin  trumpet  It  sounded 
a  little  like  the  4th  of  July. 

Old  Man  Smith  reached  down  and  took 
her  chin  in  his  hands. 

"Oh  my  Lord — what  a  beautiful  face!"  he 
said.  "What  a  beautiful  face! — And  you  say 
she's  lost  her  mind?"  he  said.  "You  say 
[174] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

she's  lost  her  mind?"     He  turned  to  Carol. 
"And  what  do  you  say?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  please,  Sir,  Carol  doesn't  say  any 
thing!"  I  explained.  "He  can't!  He's 
dumb!" 

"Dumb?"  cried  Old  Man  Smith.  "So  this 
is  the  Dumb  Child,  is  it?"  He  looked  at 
Carol.  He  looked  at  himself.  He  looked  at 
my  freckles.  He  rocked  his  hands  on  his 
stomach.  "Merciful  God!"  he  said.  "How 
are  we  all  afflicted!" 

"Oh,  please,  Sir,"  I  said,  "my  brother 
Carol  isn't  afflicted  at  all! — It's  a  great  gift 
my  Mother  says  to  be  born  with  the  Gift 
of  Silence  instead  of  the  Gift  of  Speech!" 

He  made  a  little  chuckle  in  his  throat.  He 
began  to  look  at  Young  Annie  Halliway  all 
over  again. 

"And  what  does  your  Mother  say  about 
her?"  he  pointed. 

"My  Mother  says,"  I  explained,  "that  she 
[175] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

only  hopes  that  the  person  who  finds  her 
mind  will  be  honest  enough  to  return  it!" 

"What?"  said  Old  Man  Smith.  "To  re 
turn  it? — Honest  enough  to  return  it?" 

He  began  to  do  everything  all  over  again! 
— To  chuckle!  To  rock!  To  take  Young 
Annie  Halliway's  chin  in  his  hand! 

"And  what  did  you  say  your  name  was, 
my  pretty  darling?"  he  asked. 

Young  Annie  Halliway  looked  a  little 
surprised. 

"My  name  is  Robin,"  she  said.  "Dearest 
— Robin— I  think." 

"You  think  wrong!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 
He  frowned  with  ferocity. 

It  made  us  pretty  nervous  all  of  a  sudden. 

Carol  went  off  to  look  at  the  bee-hive  to 
calm  himself.  Young  Annie  Halliway 
picked  up  the  end  of  one  of  her  long  braids 
and  looked  at  that.  There  was  still  about  a 
foot  of  it  that  didn't  have  anything  braided 
into  it.  I  didn't  know  where  to  look  so  I 
[176] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

looked  at  the  house.  It  was  very  glistening. 
Blue  it  glistened.  And  green  it  glistened! 
And  red  it  glistened!  And  pink!  And  pur 
ple!  And  yellow! 

"Oh,  see!"  I  pointed.  "There's  old  Mrs. 
Beckett's  rose-vase  with  the  gold  edge! — 
She  dropped  it  on  the  brick  garden-walk  the 
day  her  son  who'd  been  lost  at  sea  for  eleven 
years  walked  through  the  gate  all  alive  and 
perfectly  dry! — And  that  chunky  white  noz 
zle  with  the  blue  stripe  on  it? — I  know  what 
that  is! — It's  the  nose  of  Deacon  Perry's  first 
wife's  best  tea  pot! — I've  seen  it  there!  In 
a  glass  cupboard!  On  the  top  shelf! — She 
never  used  it  'cept  when  the  Preacher  came!" 

"The  Deacon's  second  wife  broke  it — 
feeding  chickens  out  of  it,"  said  Old  Man 
Smith. 

"And  that  little  scrap  of  saucer,"  I  cried, 

"with  the  pansy  petal  on   it? — Why — Why 

that's   little   Hallie   Bent's   doll-dishes! — We 

played  with  'em  down  in  the  orchard!     She 

[177] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

died!"    I   cried.     "She   had   the   whooping- 
measles!" 

"That  little  scrap  of  saucer,"  said  Old 
Man  Smith,  "was  the  only  thing  they  found 
in  Mr.  Bent's  bank  box. — What  the  widow 
was  lookin'  for  was  gold!" 

"And  that  green  glass  stopper!"  I  cried. 

"Oh,   Goodie Goodie Goodie!— Why, 

that " 

"Hush  your  noise!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 
"History  is  solemn! — The  whole  history  of 
the  village  is  written  on  the  outer  walls  of 
my  house! — When  the  Sun  strikes  here, — 
strikes  there, — on  that  bit  of  glass, — on  this 
bit  of  crockles — the  edge  of  a  plate, — the  rim 
of  a  tumbler, — I  read  about  folk's  minds! — 
What  they  loved! — What  they  hated! — What 
they  was  thinking  of  instead  when  it  broke! 
— "  He  snatched  his  long  white  beard  in 
his  hands.  He  wagged  his  head  at  me. 
"There's  a  law  about  breakin'  things,"  he 
said,  "same  as  there's  a  law  about  losin'  them! 
[178] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

My  house  is  a  sample-book,"  he  said.  "On 
them  there  walls — all  stuck  up  like  that — 
I've  got  a  sample  of  most  every  mind  in  the 
village! — People  give  'em  to  me  themselves," 
he  said.  "They  let  me  rake  out  their  trash 
barrels  every  now  and  then.  They  don't 
know  what  they're  givin.' — Now,  that  little 
pewter  rosette  there " 

"It  would  be  nice — wouldn't  it,"  I  said, 
"if  you  could  find  a  sample  of  Young  Annie 
Halliway's  mind?  Then  maybe  you  could 
match  it!" 

"Eh?"  said  Old  Man  Smith.  "A  sample 
of  her  mind?"  He  looked  jerky.  He 

growled    in    his    throat.      "A — hem A — 

hem,"  he  said.  He  closed  his  eyes.  I  thought 
he'd  decided  to  die.  I  screamed  for  Carol. 
He  came  running.  He'd  only  been  bee- 
stung  twice.  Old  Man  Smith  opened  his 
eyes.  His  voice  sounded  queer.  "Where 
do  they  think  she  lost  her  mind?"  he 
whispered. 

[179] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

"In  Europe,"  I  said.  "Maybe  in  a  train! 
Maybe  on  a  boat!  They  don't  know!  She 
can't  remember  anything  about  it." 

«U— m— m,"  said  Old  Man  Smith.  He 
looked  at  Young  Annie  Halliway.  "And 
where  do  you  think  you  lost  it?"  he  said. 

Young  Annie  Halliway  seemed  very  much 
pleased  to  be  asked.  She  laughed  right 
out. 

"In  a  March  wind!"  she  said. 

"Eh?"  said  Old  Man  Smith.  He  turned 
to  me  again.  "What  did  you  say  her  name 
was?"  he  asked. 

I  felt  a  little  cross. 

"Halliway!"  I  said.  "Halliway— Halli 
way — Halliway!  They  live  in  the  big  house 
out  by  the  Chestnut  Trees!  They  only  come 
here  in  the  Summers!  Except  now!  The 
Doctors  say  it's  Mysteria!" 

"The  Doctors  say  what  is  Mysteria?"  said 
Old  Man  Smith. 

"What  Annie's  got!"  I  explained.  "What 
[180] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

made  her  lose  her  mind!  Mysteria  is  what 
they  call  it." 

aU— m— m,"  said  Old  Man  Smith.  He 
reached  way  down  into  his  pocket.  He 
pulled  out  a  box.  He  opened  the  box.  It 
was  full  of  pieces  of  colored  glass!  And  of 
china!  He  juggled  them  in  his  hands.  They 
looked  gay.  Red  they  were!  And  green! 
And  white!  And  yellow!  And  blue!  He 
snatched  out  all  the  blue  ones  and  hid  'em 
quick  in  his  pocket.  "She  seems  sort  of 
partial  to  blue,"  he  said. 

There  was  one  funny  big  piece  of  glass 
that  was  awful  shiny.  When  he  held  it  up 
to  the  light  it  glinted  and  glowed  all  sorts  of 
colors.  It  made  your  eyes  feel  very  calm. 

Annie  Halliway  reached  out  her  hand  for 
it.  She  didn't  say  a  word.  She  just  stared 
at  it  with  her  hand  all  reached  out. 

But  Old  Man  Smith  didn't  give  it  to  her. 
He  just  sat  and  stared  at  her  eyes. 

Her  eyes  never  moved  from  the  shining 
[181] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

bit  of  glass.  They  looked  awful  funny. 
Bigger  and  bigger  they  got!  And  rounder 
and  rounder!  And  stiller  and  stiller! 

It  was  like  a  puppy-dog  pointing  a  little 
bird  in  the  grass.  It  made  you  feel  queer. 
It  made  you  feel  all  sort  of  hollow  inside. 
It  made  your  legs  wobble. 

Carol's  mouth  was  wide  open. 

So  was  Old  Man  Smith's. 

Old  Man  Smith  reached  out  suddenly  and 
put  the  shining  bit  of  glass  right  into  Annie 
Halliway's  hand.  It  fell  through  her  fingers. 
But  her  hand  stayed  just  where  it  was,  reach 
ing  out  into  the  air. 

"Put  down  your  arm!"  said  Old  Man 
Smith. 

Annie  Halliway  put  it  down.  Her  eyes 
were  still  staring  very  wide. 

"Look!"  said  Old  Man  Smith.  "Look!" 
He  dropped  several  pieces  of  colored  glass 
china  into  her  lap. 

She  chose  the  handle  of  a  red  tea  cup  and 
[182] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

a  little  chunk  of  yellow  crockery.  She 
stared  and  stared  at  them.  But  all  the  time 
it  was  as  though  her  eyes  didn't  see  them. 
All  the  time  it  was  as  though  she  was  looking 
at  something  very  far  away.  Then  all  of  a 
sudden  she  began  to  jingle  them  together  in 
her  hand, — the  little  piece  of  red  china  and 
the  chunk  of  yellow  bowl!  And  swing  her 
shoulders!  And  stamp  her  foot!  It  looked 
like  dancing.  It  sounded  like  clappers. 

"Oh,  Ho!    This  is  Spain!"  she  laughed. 

Old  Man  Smith  snatched  all  the  blue 
pieces  of  china  and  glass  out  of  his  pocket 
again  and  tossed  them  into  her  lap.  He 
looked  sort  of  mad. 

"Spain?"  he  said.  "Spain?  What  in  the 
Old  Harry  has  a  handful  of  glass  and  china 
got  to  do  with  Spain?" 

"Harry?"  said  Annie  Halliway.  "Old- 
Harry?"  Her  eyes  looked  wider  and  blinder 
every  minute.  It  was  as  though  everything 
in  her  was  wide  awake  except  the  thing  she 
[183] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

was  thinking  about.  "Har — ry?"  she  puz 
zled.  "Harry?"  she  dropped  the  red  and 
yellow  china  from  her  hand  and  picked  up 
a  piece  of  blue  glass  and  offered  it  to  Old 
Man  Smith.  "Why,  that  is  Harry!"  she 
said.  She  reached  for  the  pig-tail  that  had 
the  blue  Larkspur  braided  into  it.  She 
pointed  to  the  pig-tail  that  had  the  blue  fan 
braided  into  it.  "Why,  that  is  Harry!"  she 
said.  She  made  a  little  sob  in  her  throat. 

Old  Man  Smith  jingled  his  hands  at  her. 

"There — There — There,  my  Pretty!"  he 
said.  "Never  mind — Never  mind!" 

He  opened  his  hands.  There  were  some 
little  teeny-tiny  pieces  of  plain  glass  in  his 
hands.  Little  round  knobs  like  beads  they 
were.  Very  shining.  They  made  a  nice 
jingle. 

When    Annie    Halliway    saw    them    she 

screamed!    And  snatched  them  in  her  hand! 

And   threw   them   away  just   as   far   as   she 

could!     All  over  the  grass  she  threw  them! 

[184] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

"I  will  not!"  she  screamed.  "/  will  not! 
I  will  not!"  Her  tears  were  awful. 

When  she  got  through  screaming  her  face 
looked  like  a  wet  cloth  that  had  everything 
else  wrung  out  of  it  except  shadows. 

"Where  — is  — Harry?"  said  Old  Man 
Smith.  He  said  it  very  slowly.  And  then 
all  over  again.  " Where — is — Harry? — You 
wouldn't  have  dar'st  not  tell  him  if  you'd 
known." 

Annie  Halliway  started  to  pick  up  some 
blue  glass  again.  Then  she  stopped  and 
looked  all  around  her.  It  was  a  jerky  stop. 
Her  jaw  sort  of  dropped. 

"Harry — is — in — prison!"  she  said.  Even 
though  she'd  said  it  herself  she  seemed  to  be 
awfully  surprised  at  the  news.  She  shook 
and  shook  her  head  as  though  she  was  trying 
to  wake  up  the  idea  that  was  asleep.  Her 
eyes  were  all  scrunched  up  now  with  trying 
to  remember  about  it.  She  dragged  the  back 
of  her  hands  across  her  forehead.  First  one 
[185] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

hand  and  then  the  other.  She  opened  her 
eyes  very  wide  again  and  looked  at  Old  Man 
Smith. 

"Where  —  is  —  Harry?"  said  Old  Man 
Smith. 

Annie  Halliway  never  took  her  eyes  from 
Old  Man  Smith's  face. 

"It — It  was  the  night  we  crossed  the 
border  from  France  to  Spain,"  she  said.  Her 
voice  sounded  very  funny  and  far  away.  It 
sounded  like  reciting  a  lesson  too.  "There 
were  seven  of  us  and  a  teacher  from  the  Paris 
art  school,"  she  recited.  "It — It  was  the 

March  holiday. There — There — was  a 

woman a  strange  woman  in  the  next  com 
partment  who  made  friends  with  me. — She 
seemed  to  be  crazy  over  my  hair. — She  asked 
if  she  might  braid  it  for  the  night." 

Without  any  tears  at  all  Annie  Halliway 
began  to  sob  again. 

"When  they  waked  us  up  at  the  Customs," 
she  sobbed,  "Harry  came  running!  His  face 
[186] 


•:THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

was  awful!  'She's  braided  diamonds  in  your 
hair!'  he  cried.  'I  heard  her  talking  with 
her  accomplice!  A  hundred  thousand  dol 
lars'  worth  of  diamonds!  Smugglers  and 
murderers  both  they  are! — Everybody  will  be 
searched!' — He  tore  at  my  braids!  I  tore 
at  my  braids!  The  diamonds  rattled  out! 
Harry  tried  to  catch  them! — He  pushed  me 
back  into  the  train!  I  saw  soldiers  running! 
— I  thought  they  were  going  to  shoot  him! 
He  thought  they  were  going  to  shoot  him!— 
I  saw  his  eyes! — He  looked  so — so  surprised! 
— I'd  never  noticed  before  how  blue  his  eyes 
were! — I  tell  you  I  saw  his  eyes! — I  couldn't 
speak! — There  wasn't  anybody  to  explain 
just  why  he  had  his  hands  full  of  diamonds! 
— I  saw  his  eyes!  I  tell  you  I  couldn't  speak! 
• — I  tell  you  I  never  spoke! — My  tongue  went 
dead  in  my  mouth!  For  months  I  never 
spoke! — I've  only  just  begun  to  speak  again! 

— I've  only  just " 

She  started  to  jump  up  from  the  ground'. 
[187] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

where  she  was  sitting!  She  couldn't! — She 
had  braided  Old  Man  Smith  and  his  wheel 
chair  into  her  hair!  When  she  saw  what 
she  had  done  she  toppled  right  over  on  her 
face!  And  fainted  all  out! 

Over  behind  the  lilac  bush  somebody 
screamed. 

It  was  Annie  Halliway's  Mother!  With 
her  was  a  strange  gentleman  who  had  come 
all  the  way  from  New  York  to  try  and  cure 
Annie  Halliway.  The  strange  gentleman 
was  some  special  kind  of  a  doctor. 

"Hush — Hush!"  the  Special  Doctor  kept 
saying  to  everybody.  "This  is  a  very  crucial 
moment!  Can't  you  see  that  this  a  very 
crucial  moment?"  He  pointed  to  Annie 
Halliway  on  the  grass.  Her  Mother  knelt 
beside  her  trying  very  hard  to  comb  Old 
Man  Smith  and  his  wheel-chair  out  of  her 
pig-tail.  "Speak  to  her!"  said  the  Doctor. 
"Speak  to  her  very  gently!" 
[188] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

"Annie?"  cried  her  Mother.  "Annie? — 
Annie — Annie?" 

Annie  Halliway  opened  her  eyes  very 
slowly  and  looked  up.  It  was  a  brand  new 
kind  of  a  look.  It  had  a  bottom  to  it  in 
stead  of  being  just  through  and  through  and 
through.  There  was  a  little  smile  in  it  too. 
It  was  a  pretty  look. 

"Why,  Mother,"  said  Annie  Halliway. 
"Where  am  I?" 

The  Special  Man  from  New  York  made 
a  queer  little  sound  in  his  throat. 

"Thank  God!"  he  said.  "She's  all  right 
now!" 

It  seemed  pretty  quick  to  me. 

"You  mean — "  I  said,  "that  her  Mysteria 
is  all  cured — now?" 

"Not  Myjteria,"  said  the  Special  Man 
from  New  York,  "Hysteria!" 

"No! — £Z>rsteria!"  corrected  Old  Man 
Smith. 

[189] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

The  Special  Man  from  New  York  began 
to  laugh. 

But  Annie  Halliway's  Mother  began  to 
cry. 

"Oh,  just  suppose  we'd  never  found  her?" 
she  cried.  She  looked  at  Carol.  She  looked 
at  me.  She  glared  a  little.  But  not  so  aw 
fully  much.  "When  you  naughty  children 
ran  away  with  her?"  she  cried.  "And  we 
couldn't  find  her  anywhere? — And  the  Doc 
tor  came?  And  there  was  only  an  hour  to 
spare? — And  we  got  a  horse  and  drove 
round  anywhere?  And — And " 

"I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  anything!" 
said  the  Special  Man  from  New  York. 

"And  all  your  appointments  waiting?" 
cried  Annie  Halliway's  Mother. 

"Darn  the  appointments!"  said  the  Special 
Man  from  New  York.  He  slanted  his  head 
and  looked  at  Old  Man  Smith.  "We  ar 
rived,"  he  said,  "just  at  the  moment  when  the 
young  lady  was  gazing  so — so  intently  at 
[190] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

the  piece  of  shiny  glass."  He  made  a  funny 
grunt  in  his  throat.  "Let  me  congratulate 
you,  Mr. — Mr.  Smith!"  he  said.  "Your 
treatment  was  most  efficient! — Your  hypnosis 
was  perfect!  Your " 

"Hip  nothing!"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 

"Of  course,  in  a  case  like  this,"  said  the 
Special  Man  from  New  York,  "the  Power  of 
Suggestion  is  always " 

"All  young  folks,"  said  Old  Man  Smith, 
"are  cases  of  one  kind  or  another — and  the 
most  powerful  suggestion  that  I  can  make 
is  that  somebody  find  'Harry!' ' 

"'Harry?'"  said  Annie  Halliway's 
Mother.  "'Harry?' — Why,  I've  got  four 
letters  at  home  for  Annie  in  my  desk  now — 
from  some  im — impetuous  young  man  who 
signs  himself  'Harry!' — He  seems  to  be  in  an 
Architect's  office  in  Paris!  'Robin'  is  what 
he  calls  Annie! — ''Dearest  Robin' " 

"Eh?"  said  Annie  Halliway.  "What? 
Where?"  She  sat  bolt  upright!  She  scram- 
[191] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

bled  to  her  feet!  She  started  for  the  car 
riage! 

Her  Mother  had  to  run  to  catch  her. 

The  Special  Man  from  New  York  fol 
lowed  them  just  as  fast  as  he  could. 

Old  Man  Smith  wheeled  his  chair  to  the 
gate  to  say  "Good-bye." 

Everything  seemed  all  mixed  up. 

Annie  Halliway's  Mother  never  stopped 
talking  a  single  second. 

"Oh,  my  Pet!"  she  cried.  "My  Precious. 
My  Treasure!" 

With  one  foot  on  the  carriage  step  the 
Special  Man  from  New  York  turned  round 
and  looked  at  Old  Man  Smith.  He  smiled 
a  funny  little  smile. 

"Seek— and  ye  shall  find!"  he  said.  "That 
is — if  you  only  know  How  and  Where  to 
seek." 

Old  Man  Smith  began  to  chuckle  in  his 
beard. 

"Yes,  I  admit  that's  quite  a  help,"  he  said, 
[192] 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  PROBABLE  PLACES 

"the  knowing  How  and  Where! — But  before 
you  set  out  seekin'  very  hard  for  anything 
that's  lost  it's  a  pretty  good  idea  to  find  out 
first  just  exactly  what  it  is  that  you're  seekin' 
for! — When  a  young  lady's  lost  her  mind,  for 
instance,  that's  one  thing! — But  if  it's  her 
heart  that's  lost,  why,  that,  of  course,  is  quite 
another!" 

Annie  Halliway's  face  wasn't  white  any 
more.  It  was  as  red  as  roses.  She  had  it  in 
her  Mother's  shoulder. 

The  horses  began  to  prance.  The  carriage 
began  to  creak. 

Annie  Halliway's  Mother  looked  all 
around. 

"Oh,  dear — oh,  dear — oh,  dear,  Mr. — Mr. 
Smith,"  she  said.  "How  shall  I  ever  repay 
you?" 

Old  Man  Smith  reached  out  his  hand 
across  the  fence.  There  was  sort  of  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye. 

"One  dollar,  please,"  said  Old  Man  Smith. 
[193] 


THE   BOOK  OF  THE   FUNNY 
SMELLS— AND   EVERYTHING 


THE    BOOK   OF   THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 
—AND    EVERYTHING 

IT  was  Carol  who  invented  the  Book.    He 
didn't  mean  any  harm. 

I  helped  him. 

We  called  it  "The  Book  of  the  Funny 
Smells — and  Everything." 

It  was  one  Tuesday  noon  coming  home 
from  school  that  we  stopped  the  Lady  on  the 
street. 

She  was  a  very  interesting  looking  lady. 
She  looked  like  all  sorts  of  different-colored 
silk  roses.  And  a  diamond  brooch. 

"Excuse  us,  Madam,"  I  said.  "But  we 
are  making  a  book!  And  we  have  decided 
to  begin  it  with  you!  If  you  were  a  Beauti 
ful  Smell  instead  of  a  Beautiful  Lady, — what 
Beautiful  Smell  in  the  Whole  Wide  World 
would  you  choose  to  be?" 
[197] 


FAIRY  PRINCE  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

The  lady  reeled  back  against. the  wall  of 
the  Post  Office.  And  put  on  a  gold  eye 
glass  to  support  her. 

"Merciful  Impudences!"  she  said.  "What 
new  kind  of  census  is  this?" 

We  knew  what  a  "census"  was. 

"No!  It  isn't  that  at  all!"  I  explained. 
"This  is  something  important." 

Carol  showed  her  the  book.  He  showed 
her  the  pencil  he  was  going  to  write  the  book 
with. 

"When  it's  all  done,"  I  explained,  "every 
body  will  want  to  read  it!" 

"I  can  well  believe  it,"  said  the  Lady.  She 
looked  at  Carol.  Everybody  looks  at  Carol. 

"Who  are  you  children,  anyway?"  she 
said. 

"My  name  is  Ruthy,"  I  explained.  "And 
this  is  my  brother  Carol." 

She  began  to  look  at  Carol  all  over  again. 
She  reached  out  and  shook  him  by  the 
shoulder. 

[198] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

"Dumbness!"  she  said.  "Why  let  Sister 
do  all  the  talking?" 

My  stomach  felt  pretty  queer. 

"My  brother  Carol  can't  talk,"  I  ex 
plained.  "He  is  dumb!" 

The  Lady  turned  very  red. 

"Oh  dear — Oh  dear — Oh  dear,"  she  said. 
She  opened  her  purse.  She  took  out  a  dollar 
bill.  "Surely  something  could  be  done  about 
it!"  she  said. 

"We  are  not  looking  for  money,"  I  ex 
plained.  "We  are  perfectly  rich.  We  have 
warm  underalls.  And  two  parents.  And  an 
older  sister.  We  have  a  tame  coon.  And  a 
tame  crow.  Our  Father  could  paint  the 
house  any  Autumn  he  wanted  to  if  he'd 
rather  do  it  than  plant  Tulips." 

The  Lady  looked  at  her  watch.  It  was 
a  bright  blue  watch  no  bigger  than  a  violet 
is. 

"This  is  all  very  interesting,"  she  said. 
"But  at  the  obnoxious  hotel  which  you  run 
[199] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

in  this  village  dinner  is  at  twelve  o'clock  and 
if  I'm  not  there  at  exactly  that  moment  there 
will  not  be  another  dinner,  I  suppose,  until 
twelve  o'clock  the  next  day.  So " 

"Probably  not,"  I  said.  "So  if  you  don't 
feel  timid  at  all  about  walking  out  with 
strangers,  my  brother  Carol  and  I  will  walk 
home  to  the  Hotel  with  you  and  write  our 
book  as  we  go." 

The  Lady  bit  herself.  She  bit  herself  in 
the  lip.  She  began  to  walk  very  fast. 

Carol  walked  very  fast  on  one  side  of  her. 
I  walked  very  fast  on  the  other.  Carol  car 
ried  the  book.  He  carried  it  wide  open  so 
as  to  be  all  ready  any  moment.  I  carried  the 
pencil. 

"Can  you  tell  me,"  said  the  Lady,  "just 
why  you  and  your  brother  have  picked  upon 
me  as  the  first  victim  of  your  most  astonish 
ing  interrogations?" 

"Because  you  are  the  only  Lady  we  ever 
saw  in  our  lives  that  we  didn't  know  who 
[200] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 


she  was!"  I  explained.  "And  that  makes  it 
more  interesting!" 

"O — h,"  said  the  Lady.  She  gave  a  queer 
little  gasp.  It  was  the  Hotel  happening!  She 
ran  up  the  hotel  steps.  There  was  a  Gentle 
man  waiting  for  her  at  the  top  of  the  steps. 
He  was  a  tall  Gentleman  with  a  very  cross 
mustache.  The  Lady  whispered  something 
to  him.  He  shook  his  mustache  at  us. 

"Get  out  of  here,  you  Young  Scamps!" 
he  cried.  "Get  out  of  here,  I  say!  Get 
out!" 

No  one  had  ever  shaken  his  mustache  at 
us  before.  We  sat  down  on  the  step  to  think 
about  it 

The  Gentleman  ran  off  to  call  the  Hotel 
Proprietor. 

The  Lady  looked  a  little  sorry.  She  came 
running  back.  She  stooped  down.  She  took 
the  book  from  Carol.  And  the  pencil  from 
me.  She  laughed  a  little. 

"You  funny — funny  children,"  she  said. 
[201] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"What  is  it  you  want  to  know?  The  Most 
Beautiful  Smell  in  the  whole  wide  world, — 
is  that  it? — The  Most  Beautiful  Smell  in  the 
whole  wide  world?"  She  looked  back  over 
her  shoulder.  She  wrote  very  fast.  Her 
cheeks  looked  pink.  She  banged  the  book 
together  just  the  first  second  she  had  finished. 
She  pulled  my  ear.  "I'm  —  I'm  sorry,"  she 
said. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  I  assured  her. 
"We'll  be  round  and  write  the  rest  of  the 
book  some  other  day!" 

The  Man  with  the  Cross  Mustache  kept 
right  on  hunting  all  around. 

When  the  Hotel  Proprietor  came  running 
and  saw  who  we  were  he  gave  us  two  oranges 
instead,  and  a  left-over  roll  of  wall-paper 
with  parrots  on  it,  and  all  the  old  calendars 
that  were  in  his  desk. 

We  had  to  race  home  across  the  railroad 
trestle  to  get  there  in  time.  It  wasn't  till  we 
reached  the  Blacksmith  Shop  that  we  had  a 
[202] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

chance  to  stop  and  see  what  the  Lady  had 
written  in  our  book.  There  was  a  Smoke 
Tree  just  outside  the  Blacksmith  Shop.  It 
was  all  in  smoke.  We  sat  down  under  it 
and  opened  our  book. 

This  is  what  the  Lady  had  written  in  our 
book. 

The  most  beautiful  smell  in  the  world 
is  the  smell  of  an  old  tattered  baseball 
glove — that's  been  lying  in  the  damp  grass 
— by  the  side  of  a  brook — in  June  Time. 

I  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at  me. 
We  felt  surprised.  It  wasn't  exactly  what 
you  would  have  expected.  Carol  rolled  over 
on  his  stomach.  He  clapped  his  heels  in  the 
air.  He  pounded  his  fists  in  the  grass. 

We  forgot  all  about  going  home.  We 
went  into  the  Blacksmith's  Shop  instead.  It 
was  a  very  earthy  place.  But  nothing  grew 
there.  Not  grass.  Not  flowers.  Not  even 
vines.  Just  Junk! 

The  Blacksmith's  name  was  Jason.  He 
[203] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

looked  something  like  a  Stove  that  could  be 
doubled  up  in  its  stomach  and  carried  round 
to  all  four  corners  of  a  horse  for  the  horse 
to  put  his  foot  on.  He  was  making  shoes 
for  a  very  stout  black  horse.  The  horse's 
name  was  Ezra.  There  were  a  great  many 
sparks  around!  And  iron  noises!  And 
flames!  And  smouches!  Ezra's  hoofs  seemed 
to  be  burning!  It  smelt  so  funny  we  didn't 
think  it  would  be  polite  to  ask  Jason  what 
he'd  rather  smell  like  instead!  So  we  de 
cided  to  begin  the  other  way  about.  But 
whatever  way  you  decided  you  had  to 
scream  it. 

"Jason,"  I  screamed.  "If  you  were  a 
Beautiful  Sound  instead  of  a  Beautiful  Black 
smith,  what  Beautiful  Sound  in  the  whole 
wide  world  would  you  choose  to  be?" 

"Eh?"  screamed  Jason.  He  stopped  ham 
mering.  He  stopped  thumping.  He  stopped 
boiling  poor  Ezra's  hoof  with  a  red  hot 
poker.  "Eh?"  he  said  all  over  again.  "Well, 
[204] 


that's  a  new  one  on  me!     What's   the   Big 
Idea?" 

"Well — I  want  to  know,"  said  Jason.  He 
sat  down  on  a  great  block  of  wood.  He 
wiped  his  sleeve  on  his  face.  It  made  his 
sleeve  all  black.  "If  I  was  a  Sound — ?" 
he  said.  "Instead  of  a  Man? — Instead  of  a 
man?"  It  seemed  to  puzzle  him  a  good 
deal.  "Not  to  be  a  man — any  more  you 
mean?  No  arms?  Legs?  Stomach?  Eyes? 
— To  get  all  worn  out  and  busted  stayin'  on 
forever  in  one  place?  And  then  thrung 
away? — But  to  be  just  a — just  a  Sound? — 
Just  a  Sound?  Well,  of  all  the  comical 
ideas!  Of  all  the "  Then  quite  sud 
denly  he  whacked  his  hand  down  in  a  great 
black  smouch  on  his  knee  and  clanged  his 
feet  like  dungeon  chains  across  a  clutter  of 
horseshoes.  "I've  got  it!"  he  cried.  "I've 
got  it! — If  I  was  a  Sound  instead  of  a  man 
I'd  choose  to  be  a  Song! — Not  great  loud 
band-tunes,  I  mean,  that  nobody  could  play 
[205] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

unless  he  was  hired!  And  charged  tickets! 
But  some  nice — pretty  little  Song — floatin' 
round  all  soft  and  easy  on  ladies'  lips  and  in 
men's  hearts.  Or  tinklin'  out  as  pleasant  as 
you  please  on  moonlight  nights  from  man 
dolin  strings  and  young  folks  sparkin'.  Or 
turnin'  up  just  as  likely  as  not  in  some  old 
guy's  whistle  on  the  top  of  one  of  these  'ere 
omnibuses  in  London  Town.  Or  travellin' 
even  in  a  phonograph  through  the  wonders 
of  the  great  Sahara  Desert.  Something  all 
simple — I  mean  that  you  could  hum  without 
even  botherin'  with  the  words.  Something 
people  would  know  who  you  was  even  if 
there  wasn't  any  words! — Something  all 

sweet  and  low 'Sweet  and  Low,'  that's 

it!  My  Mother  used  to  sing  it!  I  hain't 
thought  of  it  for  forty  years!  That's  the  one 
I  mean!" 

"Sweet  and  Low" — he  began  to  sing. 

Sweet  and  low — Sweet  and  low — 
Wind  of  the  Western  Sea 

[206] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

His  voice  was  all  deep  and  full  of  sand 
like  the  way  a  bass  drum  makes  you  feel  in 
your  stomach.  I  looked  at  Carol.  Carol 
looked  at  me.  We  felt  pretty  surprised. 
Jason  the  Blacksmith  looked  more  surprised 
than  anyone!  But  he  kept  right  on  singing! 

Over  the  rolling  waters  go — 

Come  from  the — the  something — moon  and  blow — 
While  my  little  one — while  my  pretty  one — sleeps. 
Father  will  come  to  his  babe  in  the  nest — 
S-silvery — something — all  out  of  the  West — 
Silvery 

We  ran! 

When  we  got  to  the  Smoke  Tree  and 
looked  back  there  was  no  sound  at  all  in  the 
Blacksmith  Shop  except  the  sound  of  Ezra 
thumping  his  hoofs.  And  Jason  being  a 
Song  instead  of  a  man! 

The  faster  we  ran  the  more  surprised  we 
felt. 

When  you  read  a  book,  of  course,  you 
expect  to  be  surprised.  If  you  didn't  think 
the  person  who  made  the  book  was  going  to 
[207] 


FAIRY   PRINCE   AND   OTHER    STORIES 

tell  you  something  that  you  didn't  know  be 
fore  you  wouldn't  bother  to  read  it.  But 
when  you're  'writing  a  book  it  doesn't  seem 
exactly  as  though  so  many  unexpected  things 
ought  to  happen  to  you! 

We  were  pretty  glad  when  we  ran  right 
into  the  Old  Minister  who  preaches  some 
times  when  all  the  young  ministers  can't 
think  of  anything  more  to  preach  about. 

The  Old  Minister  was  leaning  against  the 
Bridge.  The  Old  Lawyer  was  leaning 
against  the  Bridge  with  him.  They  were 
waving  their  canes.  And  their  long  white 
beards.  And  arguing  about  the  "Thirty-Nine 
Articles." — Carol  thinks  it  was  the  "Fifty- 
Seven  Varieties"  they  were  arguing  about. 
But  the  "Fifty-Seven  Varieties"  I'm  almost 
sure  is  Pickles.  It's  the  "Thirty-Nine  Ar 
ticles"  that  is  Arguments! 

The  Old  Minister  laughed  when  he  saw 
us  coming.  "Well— Well— Well !"  he  cried. 
"See  who's  here!  And  carrying  such  a  big 
[208] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

book  too!  And  all  out  of  breath!"  He  put 
his  arm  round  Carol.  I  thought  he  was 
going  to  ask  us  our  Catechisms.  And  there 
wasn't  any  breath  left  in  our  catechisms. 

"Oh,  if  you  were  a  Beautiful  Sound,"  I 
gasped,  "instead  of  a  Beautiful  Preacher — 
what  Beautiful  Sound  in  the  whole  wide 
world — would  you — would  you  choose  to 
be?" 

"Eh?"  said  the  Old  Minister.  "Eh?— 
What's — that?  A — A — Sound  instead  of  a 
Preacher?  Well,  upon  my  word! — This 
minute,  you  mean?  Or  any  minute?  If  I 

was  a  Beautiful  Sound  instead  of ?"  He 

mopped  his  forehead.  He  looked  pretty  hot. 
He  twinkled  his  eyes  at  the  Old  Lawyer. 
"Well — just  this  minute,"  he  said,  "I'd  rather 
be  the  Sound  of  Foaming  Beer  than  anything 
else  in  the  world  that  I  can  think  of!"  He 
thumped  his  cane  on  the  ground.  The  Old 
Lawyer  thumped  his  cane  on  the  ground. 
They  both  started  off  down  the  road  thump- 
[209] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

ing  as  they  walked.  We  heard  them  chuck 
ling  as  they  thumped.  They  weren't  arguing 
any  more  about  the  "Thirty-Nine  Articles." 
They  were  arguing  about  Cheese. 

And  that  was  surprising  too! 

There  wasn't  any  dinner  left  when  we  got 
home  except  just  knives  and  forks  and  spoons. 
My  Mother  found  us  two  bowls  to  go  with 
the  spoons.  And  some  milk  to  go  with  the 
bowls.  And  some  crackers  to  go  with  the 
milk.  Everything  went  very  well. 

We  told  my  Mother  we  were  sorry  to  be 
late  but  that  we  were  writing  a  book  and  it 
was  very  important. 

My  Mother  said  yes, — she  knew  that  writ 
ing  books  was  very  important  and  had  always 
noticed  that  people  who  wrote  'em  were  very 
apt  to  be  late  to  things.  Her  only  regret, 
she  said,  was  that  Carol  and  I  hadn't  had 
a  little  more  time  in  which  to  form  habits 
of  promptness  before  we  began  on  such  a 
chronic  career  as  Literature. 
[210] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

My  Father  said  "Stuff  and  Nonsense!" 
My  Father  said  that  if  we'd  kindly  conde 
scend  to  tear  ourselves  away  from  the  Charms 
of  Literature  for  one  brief  afternoon  he'd 
like  to  have  us  weed  the  Tulip  Bed. 

We  said  we  would. 

We  forgot  all  about  our  book.  It  isn't  that 
pulling  up  weeds  is  any  special  fun.  It's 
the  putting  flowers  back  that  you've  pulled 
up  by  mistake  that  is  such  a  Game  in  itself. 
You  have  to  make  little  splints  for  them  out 
of  Forsythia  twigs.  You  have  to  build  little 
collars  of  pebble-stone  all  around  them  to 
keep  marauding  bettles  from  eating  up  their 
wiltedness.  You  have  to  bring  them  medi 
cine-water  from  the  brook  instead  of  from 
the  kitchen — so  that  nobody  will  scream  and 
say,  "Oh,  what  have  you  done  now? — Oh, 
what  have  you  done  now?" 

It  was  Supper  Time  before  we  knew  it. 
There  was  creamed  chicken  for  supper.  And 
wild  strawberry  preserve.  And  a  letter  from 
[211] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

our  sister  Rosalee.  Our  sister  Rosalee  is  in 
Cuba  visiting  her  Betrother.  She  wrote 
seven  pages  about  it.  She  seemed  to  like 
her  Betrother  very  much. 

My  Mother  cried  a  little.  My  Father 
said  "Oh,  Pshaw!  Oh,  Pshaw!  You  can't 
keep  'em  babies  forever!"  My  Mother  tried 
not  to  look  at  my  Father's  eyes.  She  looked 
at  his  feet  instead.  When  she  looked  at  his 
feet  instead  she  saw  that  there  were  holes 
in  his  slippers.  She  seemed  very  glad.  She 
ran  and  got  a  big  needle.  And  a  big  thread. 
My  Father  had  to  sit  very  still. 

It  seemed  a  very  good  time  to  remember 
about  the  Book. 

Carol  went  and  got  the  Book.  He  put  it 
down  on  the  Dining  Room  table.  It  was  a 
gray  book  with  a  red  back  to  it.  It  said 
"Lanos  Bryant"  across  the  back  of  it.  It 
was  Lanos  Bryant  who  had  given  us  the 
book.  Lanos  Bryant  was  the  Butcher.  It 
was  an  old  Account  Book.  The  front  of  it 
[212] 


THE    BOOK   OF   THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

was  all  mixed  up  with  figurings.  It  was  in 
the  back  of  it  that  we  were  making  Our 
Book. 

My  Mother  looked  up.  She  smiled  at 
us. 

"Why,  bless  my  heart,"  she  said,  "we 
mustn't  forget  about  the  children's  Book!" 

"No  such  luck,"  said  my  Father. 

Everybody  smiled  a  little. 

"What's  the  Book  about?"  said  my  Mother. 

I  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at  me. 
He  nudged  me  to  go  on. 

"It's  about  You!"  I  said.  "And  about 
Father!  And  about  Jason  the  Blacksmith! 
And  about  the  Old  Preacher.  And  about 
most  anybody  I  guess  that  would  like  to  be 
About-ed!" 

"Well— Well— Well,"  said  my  Mother. 
"And  what  is  it  for?" 

"Oh,  it's  just  for  fun,"  I  said.  "But  it's 
very  important. — Just  the  first  instant  any 
body  reads  it  he'll  know  all  there  is  to  know 
[213] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

about  everybody  without  ever  having  to  go 
and  make  calls  on  them!  Everything  inter 
esting  about  them  I  mean!  Everything  that 
really  matters!  Lots  of  things  that  nobody 
would  have  guessed!" 

"Mercy!"  said  my  Mother.     She  stopped 
mending  my  Father  and  jumped  right  up. 

My  Father  jumped  right  up  too! 

"Oh,   it  isn't  written  yet!"   I   said.     "It's 
only  just  begun!" 

"O — h,"  said  my  Mother.     And  sat  down 
again. 

"We  though  maybe  you  and  Father  would 
help  us,"  I  said. 

"O — h,"  said  my  Father.     And  sat  down 
again  too. 

Carol  began  to  laugh.     I  don't  know  why 
he  laughed. 

"It's — it's  just  a  set  of   questions,"   I   ex 
plained. 

Carol    opened    the    Book    and    found    the 
questions. 

[214] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

"Just  five  or  six  questions,"  I  explained. 
"All  you  have  to  do  is  to  answer  the  ques 
tions — and  tell  us  how  to  spell  it  perhaps. 
— And  then  that  makes  the  Book!" 

"It  certainly  sounds  simple,"  said  my 
Mother.  She  began  mending  my  Father 
very  hard.  "And  what  are  some  of  the  ques 
tions?"  she  asked. 

"Well — the  first  question,"  I  explained, 
"is  What  is  your  name?' ' 

My  Mother  gave  a  little  giggle.  She 
hushed  my  Father  with  her  hand. 

"Oh  surely,"  she  said,  "there  couldn't  be 
any  objection  to  telling  these  pleasant  chil 
dren  our  names?" 

"No — o,"  admitted  my  Father. 

My  Mother  looked  up.  She  twinkled  her 
eyes  a  little  as  well  as  her  mouth. 

"Our  names  are  Tather'  and  'Mother'," 
she  said. 

Carol  wrote  the  names  in  the  Book.  He 
wrote  them  very  black  and  literary  looking. 
[215] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Father"  at  the  top  of  one  page.  And 
"Mother"  at  the  top  of  the  other.  They 
looked  nice. 

"All  right  then,"  said  my  Father.  "Fire 
away!" 

I  looked  at  my  Father.  I  looked  at  my 
Mother.  I  didn't  know  just  which  one  to 
begin  with.  Carol  kicked  me  in  the  shins  for 
encouragement.  I  decided  to  begin  with  my 
Mother. 

"Oh  Mother,"  I  said.  "If  you  were  a 
Beautiful  Smell  instead  of  a  Beautiful 
Mother, — what  Beautiful  Smell  in  the  whole 
wide  world — would  you  choose  to  be?" 

"Eh?,  What's  that?  What?"  said  my 
Father.  "Well,  of  all  the  idiotic  foolishness! 
Of  all  the—" 

"Why  no  —  not  at  all,"  said  my  Mother. 
"Why — Why  I  think  it's  rather  interesting! 
Why — Why —  Though  I  must  admit,"  she 
laughed  out  suddenly,  "that  I  never  quite 
thought  of  things  in  just  that  way  before!" 
[216] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

She  looked  out  the  window.  She  looked  in 
the  fire-place.  She  looked  at  my  Father. 
She  looked  at  Carol.  She  looked  at  me. 
She  began  to  clap  her  hands.  "I've  got  itl" 
she  said.  "I  know  what  I'd  choose!  A 
White  Iris!  In  all  the  world  there's  no 
perfume  that  can  compare  with  the  perfume 
of  a  White  Iris! — Orris  root  they  call  it. 
Orris—" 

"Humph!  What's  the  matter  with  Tu 
lips?"  said  my  Father. 

"Oh  but  Tulips  don't  have  any  smell  at 
all,"  said  my  Mother.  "Except  just  the  nice 
earthy  smell  of  Spring  winds  and  Spring 
rains  and  Spring  sunbeams! — Oh  of  course 
they  look  as  though  they  were  going  to  smell 
tremendously  sweet!"  she  acknowledged  very 
politely.  "But  they're  just  so  busy  being 
gay  I  suppose  that — " 

"The  Tulip  Goldfinch,"  said  my  Father 
coldly,  "is  noted  for  its  fragrance." 

"Oh  dear — Oh  dear — Oh  dear,"  said  my 
[217] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Mother.  She  seemed  very  sorry.  She  fold 
ed  her  hands.  "Oh  very  well,"  she  said. 
"Mondays,  —  Wednesdays,  —  Fridays,  —  and 
Sundays, — I  will  be  the  fragrance  of  the 
*  Tulip  Goldfinch.  But  Tuesdays, — Thursdays 
and  Saturdays  I  really  must  insist  on  being 
the  fragrance  of  a  White  Iris!" 

"Humph!"  said  my  Father.  "There 
aren't  any  of  them  that  are  worth  the  nice 
inky  lithograph  smell  of  the  first  Garden 
Catalogues  that  come  off  the  presses  'long 
about  February!" 

My  Mother  clapped  her  hands  again. 

"Oh  Goodie!"  she  said.  "Write  Father 
down  as  choosing  to  smell  like  'the  nice  inky 
lithograph  smell  of  the  first  Garden  Cata 
logues  that  come  off  the  presses  'long  about 
February'!" 

My  Father  had  to  tell  us  how  to  spell 
"Lithograph."  Carol  wrote  it  very  carefully. 
My  Mother  laughed. 

"Well  really,"  said  my  Mother,  "I'm  be- 
[218] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

ginning  to  have  a  very  good  time. — What  is 
Question  No.  2?" 

"Question  No.  2,"  I  said,  "is:— If  you 
were  a  Beautiful  Sound  instead  of  a  Beau 
tiful  Father  and  Mother,  —  what  Beautiful 
Sound  in  the  whole  wide  world  would  you 
choose  to  be?" 

My  Father  felt  better  almost  at  once. 

"Oh  Pshaw!"  he  said.  "That's  easy.  I'd 
be  the  Sound  of  Gold  Pieces  jingling  in  the 
pocket  of  a  man — of  a  man — "  He  looked 
at  my  Mother.  " — Of  a  man  who  had  a 
Brown-Eyed  Wife  who  looked  something 
like  my  Brown-Eyed  Wife — and  three  chil 
dren  whose  names — when  you  spoke  'em 
quickly  sounded  very  similar — yes,  very  sim 
ilar  indeed  to  'Ruthy'  and  'Carol'  and 
'Rosalee'!" 

"Oh   what   nonsense!"    said    my    Mother. 

"What  does  the  jingle  of  Gold  Pieces  amount 

to? — Now  if  I  could  be  any  Sound  I  wanted 

to — I'd  choose  to  be  the  sweet — soft — breathy 

[219] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

little  stir  that  a  nice  little  family  makes  when 
it  wakes  up  in  the  morning — so  that  no  mat 
ter  how  much  you've  worried  during  the 
long  black  night  you  can  feel  at  once  that 
everything's  all  right!  And  that  everybody's 
all  there! — In  all  the  world,"  cried  my 
Mother,  "I  know  of  no  sweeter  sound  than 
the  sound  of  a  nice  little  family — waking 
up  in  the  morning!" 

I  turned  to  Carol's  page.  I  laughed  and 
laughed.  "Bubbling  Fat  is  what  Carol  would 
like  to  sound  like!"  I  cried.  "The  noise  that 
Bubbling  Fat  makes  when  you  drop  dough 
nuts  into  it! — But  I? — If  I  could  be  any 
lovely  Sound  I  wanted  to, — I'd  like  to  be  the 
Sound  of  Rain  on  a  Tin  Roof — at  night! 
All  over  the  world  people  would  be  lying 
awake  listening  to  you!  And  even  if  they 
didn't  want  to  listen  they'd  have  to!  Till 
you  were  good  and  ready  to  stop!" 

It  took  Carol  a  good  while  to  write  down 
everything  about  "Gold  Pieces"  and  a  "Nice 
[220] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

Little  Family  waking  up  in  the  Morning" 
and  "Rain  on  a  Tin  Roof." 

"The  next  question  is  pretty  hard,"  I  ex 
plained.  "Maybe  you'd  like  to  be  thinking 
about  it. — If  you  were  a  Beautiful  Sight — 
that  people  came  miles  to  see, — what  Beauti 
ful  Sight  in  the  whole  wide  world  would  you 
choose  to  be?" 

My  Father  didn't  wait  a  minute.  "A 
Field  of  Tulips!"  he  said. 

Carol  pounded  the  table  with  his  fists. 
His  face  was  like  an  explosion  of  smiles. 
He  pointed  to  my  Father's  page  in  the  Book. 

"It's  already  written!"  I  said.  "We  guessed 
it  all  the  time!" 

We  turned  to  my  Mother.  We  saw  a 
little  quiver  go  through  my  Mother's  shoul 
ders. 

"I'd  choose  to  be  a  Storm  at  Sea!"  said 
my  Mother. 

"What?"  cried  my  Father. 

"A  Storm  at  Sea!"  said  my  Mother. 
[221] 


•   FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

My  Father  stopped  saying  "What?"  And 
made  a  little  gasping  sound  instead.  "You? 
— You?"  he  said.  "The  gentlest  soul  that 
ever  breathed? — Would  like  to  be  a  l Storm 
at  Sea'?" 

"It's  only  the  'mother'  side  of  me  that  is 
gentle!"  laughed  my  Mother.  She  threw 
back  her  head  suddenly.  She  thrust  out  her 
hands.  It  jerked  her  soft,  calm  hair  all  fluffy 
and  wild  across  her  forehead.  Her  eyes 
danced!  Her  cheeks  turned  all  pink!  "Oh 
wouldn't  it  be  fun?"  she  cried.  "All  the 
roaring!  And  the  ranting!  And  the  foam 
ing!  And  the  Fury  ing! — Racing  up  the 
beaches  in  great  waves!  And  splashes! 
Banging  against  the  rocks!  Scaring  the 
fishes  almost  to  pieces!  Rocking  the  boats 
till  people  fell  Bump  right  out  of  their  berths 
onto  the  floor!  Ruffling  the  gulls  till " 

"You  wouldn't  actually — wreck  a  boat 
would  you?"  said  my  Father. 

My  Mother  stopped  tossing  her  head.  And 
[222] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

waving  her  hands.  She  gave  a  little  sigh. 
She  began  mending  my  Father  again  very 
hard. 

"Just pirates,"  she  said. 

"O— h,"  said  my  Father. 

"We  intended  to  make  the  next  one  about 
'Motions,' "  I  explained.  "But  it  was  too 
hard.  Carol  wanted  to  be  an  Elevator! — 
Carol  says  an  Elevator  is  like  quick-silver 
in  a  giant  thermometer  that's  gone  mad!— 
He  wanted  to  be  the  motion  it  makes  when 
the  Elevator's  going  down  and  the  floor's 
coming  up!  But  it  made  me  feel  queer  in 
my  stomach!" 

"Merciful  Heavens!"  said  my  Father. 
"What  kind  of  a  family  have  I  drawn? — My 
Wife  wants  to  be  a  'Storm  at  Sea'  and  my 
Son  aspires  to  feel  like  an  'Elevator  Gone 
Mad'!" 

Carol  looked  at  my  Mother.  My  Mother 
looked  at  Carol.  They  laughed  their  eyes 
together. 

[223] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"So  we  made  it  'Money'  and  'Memory' 
instead,"  I  explained. 

"Made  what  'Money'  and  'Memory'  in 
stead?"  said  my  Father. 

"The  next  two  questions,"  I  explained. 

"O— h,"  said  my  Mother. 

"Fire  away!"  said  my  Father. 

"Question  No.  4,"  I  said.  "Which  do  you 
like  best?  Times?  or  Things?" 

"Times  or  Things?"  said  my  Father. 
" Whatever  in  the  world  do  you  mean?"  His 
eyebrows  looked  pretty  puzzled. 

"Why,  we  mean,"  I  explained,  "if  some 
body  gave  you  five  whole  dollars  for  your 
birthday — how  would  you  rather  spend  it? — 
What  would  you  get  most  fun  out  of,  we 
mean? — Times?  Or  Things? — Would  you 
be  most  apt  to  spend  it  for  Rabbits,  we  mean? 
Or  going  to  a  Fair?" 

"Oh,"  said  my  Father,  "I  see! — Times  or 
Things? — Times — or  things? — Why  Things!" 
he  decided  almost  at  once.  "Things  of  course! 
[224] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

— When  you  buy  a  Thing  you've  got  some 
thing  really  tangible  for  your  money  I  Some 
thing  definite!  Something  really  to  show! — 
'Rabbits'  I  admit  would  probably  not  be  my 
choice. — But  a  book,  now!  A  set  of  garden 
tools? — A  pair  of  rubber  boots  even?" 

"N — o,"  said  my  Mother  very  softly,  "I'm 
almost  sure  I'd  rather  'go  to  the  Fair'! — 
'Times'  or  'Things'? — Yes  I'm  perfectly  posi 
tive,"  she  cried  out,  "that  Times  give  me 
more  pleasure  than  Things  do! — Now  that  I 
think  of  it  I  can  see  quite  plainly  that  always 
— always  I've  preferred  to  spend  my  money 
'going  to  the  Fair'!" 

"Yes,  but  how  foolish,"  said  my  Father. 
"When  the  Fair's  over  it's  over! — Nothing 
left  to  show  for  it  but  just  a  memory." 

My  Mother  laughed  right  out  loud.  It 
was  the  prettiest  laugh. 

"Now  that's  where  you're  mistaken!"  she 
laughed.  "When  the  Fair's  what  you  call 
'over,' — that's  the  time  it's  really  just  begun! 
[225] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

— Books  get  lost — or  puppies  chew  them! 
Garden  tools  rust  I  Even  the  best  rubber 
boots  in  the  world  get  the  most  awful  holes 
poked  through  their  toes! — But  a  Happy 
Memory? — A  Happy  Memory — ?"  She 
jumped  up  suddenly  and  crept  into  my 
Father's  arms. 

My  Father  stroked  her  hair.  And  stroked 
it 

Carol  kicked  me  in  the  shins. 

"There's  only  one  more  question!"  I  cried 
out  pretty  loud. 

"What  is  it?"  said  my  Mother.  It  sounded 
pretty  mumbly  through  my  Father's  shoulder. 

"Oh  this  one  is  very  important,"  I  said. 
"It's  about  colors" 

"Colors?"  said  my  Father.  He  didn't 
seem  to  care  nearly  as  much  as  you'd  have 
thought  he  would. 

"C — Colors,"  mumbled  my  Mother. 

"Somewhere  in  a  book,"  I  explained,  "we 
read  about  a  man  who  wanted  his  memory 
'[226] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

'kept  green?' — Why  green?  Why  not  pink? 
— Why  not  blue? — Or  even  red  with  a  cun 
ning  little  white  line  in  it?" 

"Eh?"  said  my  Father. 

"If  you  were  going  away,"  I  explained. 

My  Mother's  hands  clutched  at  his  coat. 
She  gave  a  queer  little  shiver.  "Oh  not — 
'away'!"  she  protested. 

"For  ever  and  ever,"  I  explained. 

My  Mother's  face  came  peering  out  from 
the  shadow  of  my  Father's  shoulder.  She 
started  to  laugh.  And  made  a  little  sob  in 
stead.  "Oh  not  for ever and  ever?" 

she  said. 

We  all  sat  and  looked  at  each  other.  I 
felt  awful  queer  in  my  stomach. 

Carol  kicked  me  in  the  shins.  He  wrote 
something  quick  on  a  piece  of  paper  and 
shoved  it  across  the  table  at  me. 

"China  was  the  place  that  Carol  meant!" 
I  explained.  "Oh  he  didn't  mean — at  all — 
what  you  thought  he  meant! — If  you  were 
[227] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

going  away  to — to  China — for  ever  and  ever 
— and  ever — and  gave  your  Best  Friend  a 
whole  lot  of  money  like  twenty-five  dollars 
to  remember  you  by — what  color  do  you  hope 
he'd  keep  your  memory?" 

"Oh — yes — why  of  course!"  said  my  Fath 
er  quite  quickly.  "It's  a  jolly  one  after  all, 
isn't  it! — Color — Color? — Let  me  see! — For 
twenty-five  dollars  you  say?  Yes  Yes! — The 
very  thing!  Yellow  of  course!  I  hope  my 
Best  Friend  would  have  wit  enough  to  buy 
a  Lamp! — Nothing  fancy  you  know  but 
something  absolutely  reliable. — Daytimes  to 
be  sure  your  memory  wouldn't  be  much  use 
to  him.  But  nights — the  time  everybody 
needs  everybody  the  most, — Nights  I  say, — 
looking  back  from — from  China,  was  it  that 
you  designated? — Nights  it  would  be  rather 
pleasant  I  think  to  feel  that  one  lived  on  and 
on — as  a  yellow  glow  in  his  friend's  life." 

My  Father  reached  out  and  pinched  my 
ear. 

[228] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

"How  about  it,  Ruthy?"  he  asked. 

"Oh  that's  all  right,"  I  admitted.  "But  if 
/  gave  my  Best  Friend  twenty-five  dollars  to 
remember  me  by — I  hope  he'd  buy  a  Blue 
berry  Bush! — Just  think  of  all  the  colors  it 
would  keep  your  memory! — White  in  blos 
som-time!  And  blue  in  fruit-season!  And 
red  as  blood  all  the  Autumn!  With  brown 
rabbits  hopping  through  you! — And  speckled 
birds  laying — goodness  knows  what  colored 
eggs !  And —  " 

Somebody  banged  the  front  door.  Some 
body  scuffled  on  the  threshold.  Somebody 
shouted  "Hello— Hello— Hello— !"  It  was 
the  Old  Doctor. 

We  ran  to  see  if  he  had  peppermints  in  his 
pocket. 

He  had! 

After  the  Old  Doctor  had  given  us  all  the 

peppermints  he  thought  we  ought  to  have — 

and  seven  more  besides,  he  sat  down  in  the 

big  cretonne  chair  by  the  window,  and  fanned 

[229] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

his  neck  with  a  newspaper.  He  seemed  to  be 
pretty  mad  at  the  people  who  had  made  his 
collars. 

"W-hewl"  he  said.  "The  man  who  invent- 
vented  a  21-inch  collar  ought  to  be  forced  to 
suck  boiling  starch  through  the  neck  of  a 
Blueing  Bottle!" 

We  didn't  see  just  why. 

The  Old  Doctor  said  he  didn't  care  to 
discuss  it. 

"Any  news  to-day?"  asked  my  Father. 

"News  enough!"  said  the  Old  Doctor.  He 
seemed  pretty  mad  about  that  too! 

"Such  as  what?"  asked  my  Father. 

"There's  a  Prince  and  Princess  in  town!" 
said  the  Old  Doctor.  "Or  a  Duch  and  Duch 
ess! — Or  a  Fool  and  Fooless! — I  don't  care 
what  you  call  'em! — They've  got  some  sort 
of  a  claim  on  the  old  Dun  Voolees  estate. 

Brook,  —  meadow, — blueberry hillside, — 

popple   grove, — everything!     They've   come 

way  from  Austria   to   prove   it!     Going   to 

[230] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

build  a  Tannery!  Or  a  Fertilizer  Factory! 
Or  some  other  equally  odoriferous  industry! 
Fill  the  town  with  foreign  laborers! — String 
a  line  of  lowsy  shacks  clear  from  the  Black 
smith  Shop  to  the  river! — Hope  they  choke!" 

"Oh  my  dear — my  dear!"  said  my  Mother. 

The  Old  Doctor  looked  a  little  funny. 

"Oh  I  admit  it's  worth  something,"  he  said, 
"to  have  you  call  me  your  'dear.' — But  I'm 
mad  I  tell  you  clear  through.  And  when 
youVe  got  as  much  'through'  to  you  as  I  have, 
that's  some  mad! — W-hew!"  he  said.  "When 
I  think  of  our  village, — our  precious,  clean, 
decent,  simple  little  Ail-American  village 
— turned  into  a  cheap  —  racketty  —  crowd- 
you-off-the-sidewalk  Saturday  Night  Hell 
Hole.  .  .  .?" 

«Oh— Oh— OH!"  cried  my  Mother. 

"Quick!  Get  him  some  raspberry  shrub," 
cried  my  Father. 

"Maybe  he'd  like  to  play  the  Children's 
new  Game!"  cried  my  Mother. 
[231] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"It  isn't  a  Game,"  I  explained.  "It's  a 
Book!" 

My  Mother  ran  to  get  the  Raspberry 
Shrub.  She  brought  a  whole  pitcher.  It 
tinkled  with  ice.  It  sounded  nice.  When  the 
Old  Doctor  had  drunken  it  he  seemed  cooled 
quite  a  little.  He  put  the  glass  down  on  the 
table.  He  saw  the  Book.  He  looked  sur 
prised. 

"Lanos — Bryant?  Accounts?"  he  read. 
He  looked  at  the  date.  He  looked  at  my 
Father.  "What  you  trying  to  do,  Man?"  he 
said.  "Reconstruct  a  financial  picture  of  our 
village  as  it  was  a  generation  ago?  Or  trace 
your  son  Carol's  very  palpable  distaste  for 
a  brush,  back  to  his  grandfather's  somewhat 
avid  devotion  to  pork  chops?"  He  picked  up 
the  book.  He  opened  the  first  pages.  He 
read  the  names  written  at  the  tops  of  the 
pages.  Some  of  the  names  were  pretty  faded. 
— "Alden,  Hoppin,  Weymoth,  Dun  Vorlees," 
he  read.  He  put  on  his  glasses.  He 
[232] 


scrunched  his  eyes.  He  grunted  his  throat. 
"W-hew!"  he  said.  "A  hundred  pounds  of 
beans  in  one  month? — Is  it  any  wonder  that 
young  Alden  ran  away  to  sea — and  sunk  clear 
to  the  bottom  in  his  first  shipwreck? — 'Roast 
Beef  ?— 'Roast  Beef  ?— 'Malt  and  Hops'?— 
'Malt  and  Hops'?— 'Roast  Beef  ?— 'Malt  and 
Hops'? — Is  that  where  Old  Man  Weymoth 
got  his  rheumatism? — And  Young  Weymoth 
— his  blood  pressure? — Dun  Vorlees? — Dun 
Vorlees? — What?  No  meat  at  all  from  No 
vember  to  February? — No  fruit? — Only  three 
pounds  of  sugar? — Great  Gastronomies!  Back 
of  all  that  arrogance, — that  insulting  aloof 
ness, — was  real  Hunger  gnawing  at  the  Dun 
Vorlees  vitals? — Was  that  the  reason  why — ? 
— Merciful  Heavens!"  cried  the  Old  Doctor. 
"This  book  is  worth  twenty  dollars  to  me — 
this  very  minute  in  my  Practice!  The  light 
it  sheds  on  the  Village  Stomach, — the  Village 
Nerves, — the —  " . 

"Please,  Sir,"  I  said.  "The  Book  is  Carol's. 
[233] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Mr.  Lanos  Bryant  gave  it  to  him. — And 
we're  planning  to  get  a  great  deal  more  than 
twenty  dollars  for  it  when  we  sell  it!" 

"Eh?"  said  the  Old  Doctor.    "What?" 

He  jerked  round  in  his  chair  and  glared 
at  Carol. 

"This  I'll  have  you  understand,  my  Young 
Man,"  he  said,  "is  in  the  cause  of  Sci 
ence!" 

Carol  looked  pretty  nervous.  He  began 
to  smooth  his  hair  as  well  as  he  could  without 
bristles.  It  didn't  smooth  much. 

"Oh  please,  Sir,"  I  explained,  "people  who 
write  books  never  have  smooth  hair!" 

"Who's  talking  about  writing  books?" 
roared  the  Old  Doctor. 

"Please,  Sir,  we're  trying  to  talk  about  it," 
I  said.  My  voice  sounded  pretty  little.  "It's 
the  back  part  of  the  book  that's  the  important 
part,"  I  explained.  "It's  the  back  part  of 
the  book  that  we're  writing!" 

"Eh?"  said  the  Old  Doctor. 
[234] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

He  slammed  the  book  together.  He  stood 
up  and  began  to  look  for  his  hat 

There  didn't  seem  a  moment  to  lose  if  we 
we're  going  to  get  him  into  our  book.  I  ran 
and  caught  him  by  the  hand.  Even  if  his 
face  was  busy  his  hands  always  had  time  to 
be  friends  with  Carol  and  me. 

"Oh  please — please — please"  I  besought 
him.  "If  you  were  a  Beautiful  Smell  instead 
of  a  Beautiful  Doctor, — what  Beautiful 
Smell  in  the  whole  wide  world  would  you 
choose  to  be?" 

"What?"  said  the  old  Doctor.  "What? 
W-h-a-t?"  he  kept  saying  over  and  over.  He 
looked  at  my  Father.  He  looked  at  my 
Mother.  My  Mother  told  him  about  our 
Book.  He  made  a  loud  Guffaw.  "Guffaw"  I 
think  is  the  noise  he  made.  Carol  is  sure 
that  it  is!  He  looked  at  Carol.  He  looked 
at  me.  He  began  to  Guffaw  all  over  again. 

"Well  really,  Young  Authorettes,"  he  said, 
"I  hardly  know  how  to  answer  you  or  how 
[235] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

to  choose.  Ether  or  Chloroform  and  general 
Disinfectants  being  the  most  familiar  savors 
of  my  daily  life, — the  only  savors  indeed  that 
I  ever  expect  to  suggest  to  anybody — "  He 
looked  out  the  window.  There  was  an  apple- 
blossom  tree.  It  made  the  window  look  very 
full  of  June.  His  collar  seemed  to  hurt  him. 
It  made  him  pretty  serious.  It  made  his 
voice  all  solemn. 

"But  I'll  tell  you,  Kiddies,"  he  said  quite 
suddenly.  "I'll  tell  you  the  Sweetest  Thing 
that  I  ever  smelled  in  my  life! — It  was  the 
first  Summer  I  was  back  from  College. — I 
was  out  on  the  Common  playing  ball.  Some 
body  brought  me  word  that  my  Father  was 
dead. — I  didn't  go  home. — I  slunk  off  instead 
to  my  favorite  trout-brook — and  sat  down 
under  a  big  white  birch  tree — and  cursed! — 
I  was  very  bitter.  I  needed  my  Father  very 
much  that  year.  And  my  step-mother  was  a 
harsh  woman. — Late  that  night  when  I  got 
home, — ugly  with  sorrow, — I  found  that  I'd 
[236] 


left  my  Catcher's  glove.  It  happened  to  be 
one  that  my  Father  had  given  me. — With 
matches  and  a  tin-can  lantern  I  fumbled  my 
way  back  to  the  brook.  The  old  glove  lay 
palm-upward  in  the  moss  and  leaves.  Some 
body  had  filled  the  palm  with  wild  violets. 
— I  put  my  face  down  in  it — like  a  kid — and 
bawled  my  heart  out. — It  was  little  Annie 
Dun  Vorlees  it  seemed  who  had  put  the  vio 
lets  there.  Trailed  me  clear  from  the  Ball 
Field.  Little  kid  too.  Only  fourteen  years 
to  my  twenty.  Why  her  Mother  wouldn't 
even  let  me  come  to  the  house.  Had  made 
Annie  promise  even  not  to  speak  to  me. — 
But  when  Trouble  hit  me,  little  Annie — ?" 
The  Old  Doctor  frowned  his  eyebrows. 
"Words!"  he  said.  "It's  'words  after  all  that 
have  the  real  fragrance  to  'em! — Now  take 
that  word  'Loyalty'  for  instance.  I  can't 
even  see  it  in  a  Newspaper  without — "  He 
put  back  his  head  suddenly.  He  gave  a 
queer  little  chuckle.  "Sounds  funny,  doesn't 
[237] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

it,  Kiddies,"  he  laughed,  "to  say  that  the 
sweetest  thing  you  ever  smelled  in  your  life 
was  an  old  baseball  glove  thrown  down  on 
the  mossy  bank  of  a  brook?" 

I  looked  at  Carol.  Carol  looked  at  me. 
His  eyes  were  popping.  We  ran  to  the  Book. 
We  snatched  it  open.  It  bumped  our  heads. 
We  pointed  to  the  writing.  I  read  it  out 
loud. 

The  most  beautiful  smell  in  the  world 
is  the  smell  of  an  old  tattered  baseball 
glove  that's  been  lying  in  the  damp  grass 
— by  the  side  of  a  brook — in  June  Time. 

My  Mother  looked  funny. 

"Good  Gracious,"  she  said.  "Are  my  chil 
dren  developing  'Second  Sight'? — First  it 
was  the  'Field  of  Tulips'  already  written 
down  as  their  Father's  choice  before  he  could 
even  get  the  words  out  of  his  mouth! — And 
now,  hours  before  the  Old  Doctor  ever  even 
dreamed  of  the  Book's  existence  they've  got 
his  distinctly  unique  taste  in  perfumes  all — " 
[238] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

"But  this  isn't  the  Old  Doctor!"  I  cried 
out.  "She  wrote  it  herself.  It's  the  Lady 
down  at  the  hotel.  It's  the — the  Empress 
that  the  Old  Doctor  was  talking  about!" 

"The — Empress?"  gasped  the  Old  Doctor. 

"Well  maybe  you  said  'Princess,' "  I  ad 
mitted.  "It  was  some  one  from  Austria  any 
way — come  to  fuss  about  the  old  Dun  Vorlees 
place!  You  said  it  was!  You  said  that's  who 
it  was! — It's  the  only  Strange  Lady  in  the 
village!" 

"What?"  gasped  the  Old  Doctor.  "What?" 
He  looked  at  the  book.  He  read  the  Lady's 
writing.  Anybody  could  have  seen  that  it 
wasn't  our  writing.  It  was  too  dressy.  He 
put  on  his  glasses.  He  read  it  again. 

— the  smell  of  an  old  tattered  baseball 
glove — that's  been  lying  in  the  damp  grass 
— side  of  a  brook — June  Time. 

"Good    Lord!"     he    cried     out.      "Good 
Lord!" — He     couldn't     seem     to     swallow 
through  his  collar.     "Not  anyone  else!"  he 
[239] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

gasped.  "In  all  the  world! — There  couldn't 
possibly  be  anyone  else!  It  must — It  must 
be  little  Annie  Dun  Vorlees  herself!" 

He  rushed  to  the  window.  There  was  a 
grocery  boy  driving  by. 

"Hi!  Hi  there!"  he  called  out.  "Don't 
mind  anybody's  orders  just  now!  Take  me 
quick  to  the  Hotel! — It's  an  Emergency  I 
tell  you!  She  may  be  gone  before  I  get 
there!" 

We  sat  down  on  the  sofa  and  curled  up  our 
legs.  Our  legs  felt  queer. 

My  Mother  and  Father  sat  down  on  the 
other  sofa.  They  looked  queer  all  over.  They 
began  to  talk  about  the  Village.  It  wasn't 
exactly  the  Village  that  we  knew.  It  was 
as  though  they  talked  about  the  Village 
when  it  was  a  child.  They  talked  about  when 
the  Bridge  was  first  built.  They  talked  about 
the  Spring  when  the  Big  Freshet  swept  the 
meadow.  They  talked  about  the  funny  color 
of  Jason  the  Blacksmith's  first  long  trousers. 
[240] 


THE    BOOK    OF    THE    FUNNY    SMELLS 

They  talked  about  a  tiny  mottled  Fawn  that 
they  had  caught  once  with  their  own  hands 
at  a  Sunday  School  picnic  in  the  Arbutus 
Woods.  They  talked  about  the  choir  re 
hearsals  in  the  old  white  church.  They 
talked  about  my  Father's  Graduation  Essay 
in  the  High  School.  It  was  like  History 
that  was  sweet  instead  of  just  true.  It  made 
you  feel  a  little  lonely  in  your  throat.  Our 
Tame  Coon  came  and  curled  up  on  our  legs. 
It  made  our  legs  feel  better.  The  clock 
struck  nine.  Our  Father  and  Mother  forgot 
all  about  us.  Pretty  soon  we  forgot  all  about 
ourselves.  When  we  woke  up  the  Old  Doc 
tor  had  come  back.  He  was  standing  by  the 
table  in  the  lamplight  talking  to  my  Father 
and  my  Mother. 

He  looked  just  the  same — only  different — 

like  a  portrait  in  a  newspaper  that  somebody 

had   tried   to   copy.     All   around   the   inner 

edges  of  his  bigness  it  was  as  though  some- 

[241] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

one  had  sketched  the  outline  of  a  slimmer 
man. — It  looked  nice. 

"Well  it  was  little  Annie  Dun  Vorlees!" 
he  said. 

"Was  it  indeed?"  said  my  Father. 

"Hasn't  changed  a  mite!"  said  the  Old 
Doctor.  "Not  a  mite! — Oh  of  course  she's 
wearing  silks  now  instead  of  gingham. — And 
her  hair? — Well  perhaps  it's  just  a  little  bit 
gray  but " 

"Gray  hair's  very  pretty,"  said  my  Mother. 

"Humph!"  said  the  Old  Doctor.  "I  ex 
pected  of  course  that  she'd  think  me  changed 
a  good  deal.  I've  grown  stout.  'Healthy' 
she  called  it. — She  thought  I  looked  Very 
healthy'!"  The  Old  Doctor  shifted  his  feet. 
He  twitched  at  a  newspaper  on  the  table. 
"That  Austrian  gentlemen  with  her  isn't  her 
Husband,"  he  said.  "She's  a — she's  a  widow 
now. — It's  her  Husband's  brother." 

"Really?"  said  my  Father. 

"Oh  Thunder!"  said  the  Old  Doctor.  "I 
[242] 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  FUNNY  SMELLS 

guess  perhaps  I  spoke  a  little  bit  hastily  when 
I  was  here  before — about  their  ruining  the 
Village! — I've  been  talking  a  bit  with  Annie 
and — "  His  face  turned  quite  red  suddenly. 
He  laughed  a  little.  "There  won't  be  any 
changes  made  at  present  in  the  old  Dun 
Vorlees  place — I  imagine. — Not  at  present 
anyhow." 

He  looked  over  at  us.    We  scrunched  our 
eyes  perfectly  tight. 

"Asleep,"  he  said.  He  picked  up  our 
Book.  He  tucked  it  under  his  arm.  He 
looked  at  my  Father  and  Mother.  "It's  quite 
time,"  he  said,  "that  you  started  a  Bank 
Account  for  these  children's  college  educa 
tion. — It  costs  a  great  deal  to  send  children 
to  college  nowadays.  Carol  will  surely  want 
a  lot  of  base-ball  bats. — And  girls  I  know 
are  forever  needing  bonnets!"  He  took  two 
Big  Gold  Pieces  from  his  pocket  and  put 
them  down  on  the  table  where  our  Book  had 
been.  They  looked  very  shining. 
[243] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

My  Father  gave  a  little  gasp.  He  jumped 
up!  He  started  to  argue  1 

My  Mother  hushed  him  with  her  hand. 

"S —  sh not  to-night!"  she  whispered. 

"Not  to-night!" 

She  looked  at  the  Old  Doctor.  She  looked 
at  our  Book  all  hugged  up  tight  under  his 
arm.  Her  eyes  looked  as  though  they  were 
going  to  cry.  But  her  mouth  looked  as 
though  it  was  going  to  laugh. 

"Oh  of  course — if  it's  in  the  Cause  of 
Science,"  she  said.  "If  it's  in  the  Cause  of 
Science." 


[244] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO 
COULDN'T  SLEEP, 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

IT  was  our  Uncle  Peter  who  sent  us  the 
little  piece  of  paper. 

It  was  a  piece  of  paper  torn  out  of  that 
part  of  a  newspaper  where  people  tell  what 
they  want  if  they've  got  money  enough  to  pay 
for  it. 
This  is  what  it  said: 

"WANTED  a  little  dog  who  can't 
sleep  to  be  night  companion  for  a 
little  boy  who  can't  sleep.  Will  pay 
fifty  dollars." 

Our  Uncle  Peter  sent  it  to  my  Father  and 
told  him  to  give  it  to  us. 

"Your  children  know  so  many  dogs,"  he 
said. 

"Not  —  fifty  dollars'  worth,"  said  my 
Father.  He  said  it  with  points  in  his  eyes. 
[247] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Oh — I'm  not  so  sure,"  said  my  Mother. 
'She  said  it  with  just  a  little  smile  in  her  voice. 

It  was  my  Mother  who  gave  us  the  big  sheet 
of  brown  paper  to  make  our  sign.  My  brother 
Carol  mixed  the  paint.  I  mixed  the  letters. 
It  was  a  nice  sign.  We  nailed  it  on  the  barn 
where  everybody  who  went  by  could  see  it. 
It  said: 

"Carol  and  Ruthy. 
Dealers  in  Dogs  who 
Can't  Sleep." 

Nobody  dealt  with  us.  We  were  pretty  dis 
couraged. 

We  asked  the  Grocer  if  he  had  a  little  dog 
who  couldn't  sleep.  We  asked  the  Postman. 
We  asked  the  Butcher.  They  hadn't. 

We  asked  the  old  whiskery  man  who  came 
every  Spring  to  buy  old  bottles  and  papers. 
HE  HAD! 

He  brought  the  dog  on  a  dungeon  chain. 
He  said  if  we'd  give  him  fifty  cents  for  the 
[248] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

dungeon  chain  we  could  have  the  dog  for 
nothing. 

It  seemed  like  a  very  good  bargain. 

Our  Father  lent  us  the  fifty  cents. 

He  was  a  nice  dog.  We  named  him  Tiger 
Lily.  His  hair  was  red  and  smooth  as  Sunday 
all  except  his  paws  and  ears.  His  paws  and 
ears  were  sort  of  rumpled.  His  eyes  were  gold 
and  very  sweet  like  keepsakes  you  must  never 
spend.  He  had  a  sad  tail.  He  was  a  setter 
dog.  He  was  meant  to  hunt.  But  he  couldn't 
hunt  because  he  was  so  shy.  It  was  guns  that 
he  was  so  shy  about. 

Our  Mother  invited  us  to  wash  him.  He 
washed  very  nicely. 

We  wrote  our  triumph  to  our  Uncle  Peter 
and  asked  him  to  send  us  the  fifty  dollars. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  came  instead  in  an  auto 
mobile  and  took  Tiger  Lily  and  Carol  and  me 
to  the  city. 

"Of  course  he  isn't  exactly  a  'little  dog,' ' 
[249] 


FAIRY   PRINCE   AND   OTHER    STORIES 

we  admitted.    "But  at  least  he's  a  dog!    And 
at  least  he  'can't  sleep'  1" 

"Well — I  wonder,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 
He  seemed  very  pleased  to  wonder  about  it. 
He  twisted  his  head  on  one  side  and  looked 
at  Tiger  Lily.  "What  do  you  mean, — 'doesn't 
sleep'?"  he  said. 

Because  my  brother  Carol  is  dumb  and 
never  talks  I  always  have  to  do  the  explaining. 
It  was  easy  to  explain  about  Tiger  Lily. 

"Why  when  you're  in  bed  and  fast  asleep," 
I  explained,  "he  comes  and  puts  his  nose  in 
your  neck!  It  feels  wet!  It's  full  of  sighs 
and  a  cool  breeze!  It  makes  you  jump  and 
want  your  Mother! — All  the  rest  of  the  time 
at  night  he's  roaming!  And  prowling!  And 
s'ploring! — Up  the  front  stairs  and  down  the 
back — and  up  the  front  and  down  the  back! 
— Every  window  he  comes  to  he  stops  and 
listens!  And  listens!  —  His  toe-nails  have 
never  been  cut! — It  sounds  lonely!" 
[250] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

"What  does  he  seem  to  be  listening  for?" 
said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"Listening  for  gun-bangs,"  I  explained. 

"O— h,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

The  city  was  full  of  noises  like  gun-bangs. 
It  made  Tiger  Lily  very  nervous.  He  tried 
to  get  under  everything.  It, took  us  most  all 
the  afternoon  to  get  him  out. 

The  little  boy's  name  was  Dicky.  He 
wasn't  at  home.  "Come  again,"  said  the  man 
at  the  door.  We  came  again  about  eight 
o'clock  at  night.  It  seemed  as  late  as  Christ 
mas  Eve  and  sort  of  lonely  without  our  Parents 
or  any  other  presents.  We  had  to  climb  a 
lot  of  stairs.  It  made  Tiger  Lily  puff  a  little 
and  look  very  glad.  It  made  our  Uncle  Peter 
puff  some  too.  It  made  the  little  boy's  Mother 
puff  a  good  deal.  There  wasn't  any  Father. 
The  Mother  was  all  in  black  about  it.  Her 
clothes  looked  very  sorrowful.  But  her  face 
was  just  sort  of  surprised.  She  had  white 
hands.  She  carried  them  all  curved  up  like 
[251] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

pond-lilies.  She  was  pretty.  Even  if  you'd 
never  seen  her  but  once  in  a  train  window 
you'd  .always  have  remembered. 

The  little  boy's  room  was  very  large  and 
full  of  lights.  There  were  tinkly  glass  things 
hanging  everywhere.  There  was  a  music-box 
playing.  There  was  a  tin  railroad  train  run 
ning  round  and  round  the  room  all  by  itself 
making  a  bangy  noise.  There  was  a  wound-up 
bird  in  a  toy  cage  crying  "Hi!  Hi!"  There 
was  a  crackling  fire.  Everything  was  tinkling 
or  playing  or  singing  or  banging  or  crackling. 
It  sounded  busy.  You  had  to  talk  very  loud 
to  make  any  one  hear  you. 

The  little  boy  sat  on  top  of  a  table  in  a  big 
bay  window  looking  out  at  the  night.  His 
knees  were  all  cuddled  up  into  the  curve  of 
his  arms.  He  had  on  a  little  red  wrapper  and 
bare  legs  and  fur  slippers.  He  was  lots  littler 
than  us.  He  looked  cunning. 

We  stamped  our  feet  on  the  rug, 

"Here's  your  dog!"  I  said. 
[252] 


When  the  little  boy  saw  Tiger  Lilly  he 
jumped  right  down  from  the  table  and 
screamed.  It  was  with  joy  that  he  screamed. 
He  threw  his  arms  right  around  Tiger  Lily's 
icck  and  screamed  all  over  again.  Tiger  Lily 
liked  it  very  much. 

"What  makes  his  paws  so  fluffy?"  he 
screamed.  "How  soft  his  face  is!  He's  got 
>weet  eyes!  He's  got  a  sad  tail!  What's  his 
lame?  Where  did  you  get  him?  Is  he  for 
Tie?  Do  I  have  to  pay  money  for  him?  What 
Iocs  he  eat?  Will  he  drink  coffee?"  Just  as 
:hough  he  was  mad  about  something  he  began 
suddenly  to  jump  up  and  down  and  cry  tears. 
Why  doesn't  somebody  answer  me?"  he 
icreamed.  "Why  doesn't  somebody  tell  me?" 

He  got  so  excited  about  it  that  he  hit  Carol 
n  the  nose  and  blooded  him  quite  a  good 
leal. 

The  little  boy's  mother  came  running. 

"Oh  hush— hush,  Dicky!"  she  cried.  "Don't 
3e  in  such  a  hurry!  The  boy  will  tell  you  all 
[253] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

about  it  in  time!  Give  him  time  I  say!  Give 
him  time!" 

"No  he  won't,"  I  explained.  "My  brother 
Carol  never  tells  anything.  He  can't." 

"He's — dumb,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

The  Lady  looked  sort  of  queer. 

"Oh  dear — Oh  dear — Oh  dear,"  she  said. 
"What  a  misfortune!" 

Our  Uncle  Peter  sort  of  sniffed  his  ex 
pression. 

"Misfortune?"  he  said.  "I  call  it  the  great 
est  blessing  in  the  world !"  He  glared  at  little 
Dicky.  "Yes  the  greatest  blessing  in  the 
world !"  he  said.  "A  child  who  doesn't  babble 
or  fuss!— Or  SCREAM!" 

The  Lady  looked  more  and  more  surprised. 
She  turned  to  the  little  boy. 

"  'Dumb,'  Dicky,"  she  said.  "You  under 
stand?  Doesn't  speak?" 

Dicky  looked  at  his  Mother.  He  looked  at 
Carol.  A  little  pucker  came  and  blacked 
itself  between  his  eyebrows.  As  though  to 
[254] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

toss  the  pucker  away  he  tossed  back  his  whole 
head  and  ran  to  Tiger  Lily  and  threw  his  arms 
around  Tiger  Lily's  neck. 

"Doesn't EVER?"  he  said. 

"Doesn't  ever  —  what?"  said  our  Uncle 
Peter. 

"Sleep?"  said  Dicky. 

"It  was  the  boy  we  were  talking  about," 
laughed  his  Mother.  "Not  the  doggie."  She 
tried  to  put  her  arms  around  him. 

He  wiggled  right  out  of  them  and  ran  back 
to  Tiger  Lily. 

"Is  it  his  adenoids?"  he  cried.  "Have  you 
had  his  eyes  tested?  How  do  you  know  but 
what  it's  his  teeth?" 

"Whose  teeth?"  frowned  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"Tiger  Lily's!"  cried  Dicky. 

His  Mother  made  a  sorry  sound  in  her 
throat. 

"Poor  Dicky,"  she  said.  "He's  had  most 
everything  done  to  him !  —  Tonsils,  —  spine, 
— eyes, — ears, — teeth !  — Why  the  last  Doctor 
[255] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

I  saw  was  almost  positive  that  the  Insomnia 
was  due  entirely  to — "  In  the  very  middle 
of  what  it  was  due  to  she  turned  to  our  Uncle 
Peter.  Her  voice  got  very  private.  Our 
Uncle  Peter  had  to  stoop  his  head  to  hear  it. 
He  had  a  proud  head.  It  didn't  stoop  very 
easily. 

"He  isn't  my  own  little  boy,"  she  whispered. 

As  though  his  ears  were  magic  the  little 
boy  looked  up  and  grinned.  His  eyes  looked 
naughty. 

"Nobody's  own  little  boy,"  he  said.  "No 
body's  own  little  boy!"  As  though  it  was  a 
tsong  without  any  tune  he  began  to  sing  it. 
"Nobody's — Nobody's  own  little  boy  I" 

The  Lady  tried  to  stop  him.  He  struck  at 
her  with  his  feet.  It  made  a  hurt  on  her  arm. 
He  snatched  Tiger  Lily  by  the  collar  and 
started  for  the  door. 

"Going  to  find  Cook  and  get  a  bone!"  he 
said.  He  said  it  like  a  boast  He  slammed 
the  door  behind  him.  It  made  a  rude  noise. 
[256] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

He  came  running  back  and  looked  a  little 
sorry,  but  mostly  bashful.  He  pointed  at 
Tiger  Lily.  "What— What's  HE  afraid  of?" 
he  said. 

"Noises,"  I  explained. 

"Noises?"  cried  the  little  boy.  He  cried  it 
with  a  sort  of  a  hoot.  It  sounded  scornful. 

"Oh  pshaw!"  he  said.  "There  isn't  a  noise 
in  the  world  that  I'm  afraid  of !  Not  thunder! 
Not  guns!  Not  ANYTHING!  Noises  are 
my  friends !  In  the  night  I  take  torpedoes  and 
crack  'em  on  the  hearth  just  to  hear  them 
sputter!  I've  got  three  tin  pans  tied  on  a 
string!  I've  got  a  pop-gun!" 

He  ran  back  to  the  table  to  get  the  gun.  It 
was  a  nice  gun.  It  was  painted  bright  blue. 
It  looked  loud. 

When  Tiger  Lily  saw  it  he  dove  under  the 
bed.  It  was  hard  to  get  him  out.  The  little 
boy  looked  very  astonished. 

"It's  gun-bangs — specially — that  Tiger  Lily 
is  afraid  of,"  I  explained. 
[257] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Gun-bangs?"  said  the  little  boy. 

"That's  why  he  can't  ever  hunt,"  I  ex 
plained. 

"Hunt?"  said  the  little  boy.  "Not — ever 
you  mean?"  He  looked  at  Tiger  Lily.  He 
looked  at  the  blue  pop-gun.  "Not  ever? 
Ever?  Ever?"  Way  down  in  his  little  fur 
slippers  it  was  as  though  a  little  sigh  started 
and  shivered  itself  up-up-up  —  up  till  it 
reached  his  smile.  It  made  his  smile  sort  of 
wobbly.  "Oh  all  right!"  he  said  and  ran  away 
as  fast  as  he  could  to  hide  the  blue  pop-gun 
in  the  bottom  of  the  closet.  A  velocipede  he 
piled  on  top  of  it  and  two  pillows  and  a  Noah's 
Ark  and  a  stuffed  squirrel.  When  the  piling 
was  all  done  he  looked  back  at  our  Uncle 
Peter.  It  was  across  one  shoulder  that  he 
looked  back.  It  made  his  little  smile  look 
twisty  as  well  as  wobbly.  One  of  his  eyebrows 
had  crooked  itself.  "It's— It's  SILENCES 
that  I'm  afraid  of,"  he  said. 

He  grabbed  Tiger  Lily  by  the  collar  again 
[258] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG 'WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

and  started  for  the  door.  As  though  he  was 
playing  a  Game  he  reached  out  one  finger 
and  tagged  everybody  as  he  passed  them. 
Everybody  except  Carol.  When  he  started 
to  tag  Carol  he  snatched  back  his  finger 
and  screamed  instead.  "He's  a  Silence!"  he 
screamed.  "He's  a  Silence!"  Still  holding 
tight  to  Tiger  Lily's  collar  he  ran  for  the 
stairs. 

Flop-Flop-Flop  his  little  fur  slippers  thud 
ded  on  the  hard  wood  floor.  Tick-Tick-Tick 
Lily's  toe-nails  clicked  along  beside  him.  It 
sounded  cool.  And  slippery. 

His  Mother  wrung  her  hands.  It  seemed 
to  be  with  despair  that  she  wrung  them. 

"Yes  that's  just  it,"  she  despaired.  "It's 
'Silences'  that  he's  afraid  of!  That's  what 
keeps  him  awake  all  night  banging  at  things ! 
That's  what  worries  him  so !" 

"But  he  gave  up  the  noisy  pop-gun,"  said 
our  Uncle  Peter.  "Gave  it  up  of  his  own 
[259] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

accord  when  he  saw  that  it  frightened  the 
dog." 

"Why  so  he  did!"  said  the  Mother.  She 
seemed  very  much  surprised.  "Why  so  he 
did! — Why  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  knew 
him  to  give  up  anything  before.  He's  been 
so  delicate  —  and  —  and  the  only  child  and 
everything — I'm  afraid  we've  spoiled  him." 

"U — m — m,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"And  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case  are 
so  bewildering,"  despaired  the  lady. 

Like  white  pond-lilies  floating  in  a  black 
gloom  her  sad  hands  curled  in  her  lap.  It 
seemed  to  be  at  our  Uncle  Peter  that  they 
curled. 

"Are  they  indeed?"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 
It  was  the  "circumstances"  that  he  meant. 

"Very  bewildering,"  said  the  Lady.  Her 
cheeks  got  a  little  pink.  She  jumped  up  and 
went  to  the  door  and  listened  a  minute  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs.  When  she  came  back  to 
her  chair  she  shut  the  door  behind  her. 
[260] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

"As  I  told  you,"  she  whispered,  "the  little 
boy  isn't  my  own  little  boy." 

"So  I  understood,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"His  Mother  died  when  he  was  born,"  said 
the  Lady. 

"Very  sad  indeed,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"Dicky  is  six  years  old,"  said  the  Lady.  "I 
married  his  Father  a  year  and  a  half  ago.  His 
Father  was  killed  in  an  accident  a  year  ago — " 

"Oh  dear — Oh  dear,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

The  Lady  began  all  over  again  as  though  it 
was  a  lesson. 

"Dicky  is  six  years  old,"  she  said.  "I  mar 
ried  his  Father  a  year  and  a  half  ago.  He 
was  killed  in  an  accident  a  year  ago.  It  was 
all  so  sudden, — the  marriage, — the  accident, — 
everything — !"  She  began  to  cry  a  little.  It 
made  her  clothes  look  sorrowfuller  and  sor- 
rowfuller  and  her  face  more  and  more  sur 
prised.  Once  again  she  curled  up  her  white 
pond-lily  hands  at  our  Uncle  Peter.  It  was 
as  though  she  thought  that  our  Uncle  Peter 
[261] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

could  help  her  perhaps  with  some  of  her  sur 
prises.  "I — I  didn't  know  his  Father  very 
long,"  she  cried.  "I  never  knew  his  Mother 

at  all! It's — It's  pretty  bewildering,"  she 

said,  "to  be  left  all  alone — for  life — with  a 
perfectly,  strange  little  boy — who  isn't  any 
relation  at  all! — All  his  funny  little  suits  to 
worry  about — and  his  mumps  and  his  measles 
— and — and  whether  he  ought  to  play  marbles 
'for  keeps' — and  shall  I  send  him  to  college 
or  not?  And  suppose  he  turns  out  a  burglar 
or  something  dreadful  like  that? — And  how 
in  the  world  am  I  going  to  tackle  his  first 
love  affair?  Or  his  choice  of  a  profession? — 
Merciful  Heavens!  —  Perhaps  he'll  want  to 
fly!" 

"Why — you're  just  like  a  Hen,"  said  our 
Uncle  Peter. 

The  Lady  didn't  like  to  be  called  a  Hen. 

It  ruffled  her  all  up. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  had  to  talk  about  Base  Ball 
to  soothe  her. 

[262] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

The  Lady  didn't  know  anything  about  Base 
Ball  but  it  seemed  to  soothe  her  considerably 
to  hear  about  it. 

When  our  Uncle  Peter  was  all  through 
soothing  her  she  looked  up  as  pleasant  as 
pleasant  could  be. 

"WHY?"  she  said. 

"Why — what?"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.  He 
seemed  a  little  perplexed. 

"Why  —  am  I  like  a  Hen?"  said  the 
Lady. 

"O — h,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.  He  acted 
very  much  relieved.  "O — h,"  he  said.  "I 
was  afraid  it  was  something  you  were  going 

to  ask  me  about  Base  Ball.  But  a  Hen ?" 

He  looked  with  smiles  at  the  Lady.  "Oh  but 
a  Hen — ?  — Why  even  a  Hen,  my  dear 
Madam,"  he  smiled,  "a  real  professional  true- 
enough  hen  doesn't  take  any  too  easily  to  the 
actual  chick  itself  until  she's  served  a  certain 
sit-tightly,  go-lightly,  egg-shell  sort  of  appren 
ticeship  as  it  were  to  the  IDEA.  — Thrust  a 
[263] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

bunch  of  chicks  under  her  before  she's  served 
this  apprenticeship  and " 

I  jumped  up  and  down  and  clapped  my 
hands.  I  just  couldn't  help  it. 

"Oh,  I  know  what  happens!"  I  cried.  "She 
sits  too  heavy!  And  squashes  'em  perfectly 
flat!  — There  was  a  hen,"  I  cried.  "Her  name 
was  Lizzie!  She  was  a  good  hen !  But  child 
less  !  The  Grocer  gave  us  some  day-old  chicks 
to  put  under  her!  But  when  we  went  out  to 
the  nest  the  next  morning  to  see  'em — they 
couldn't  have  been  flatter  if  they'd  been 
pressed  in  the  Bible!  — My  Brother  Carol 
cried, — I  cried, — my  Mother " 

"I  don't  care  at  all  who  cried,"  said  the 
Lady.  It  was  true.  She  didn't.  All  she 
cared  was  to  look  at  our  Uncle  Peter.  The 
look  was  a  stern  look. 

"And  are  you  trying  to  imply,  Mr. — 
Mr.—?" 

"Merredith,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.    "Per- 
cival  Merredith.  — 'Uncle  Peter'  for  short." 
[264] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

"Mr.  Merredith,"  repeated  the  Lady  coldly. 

"Are  you  trying  to  imply  that  my step-son 

looks  as  though  he  had  been  pressed  in  a — a — 
Bible?" 

I  shook  in  my  boots.  Carol  shook  in  his 
boots.  You  could  hear  us. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  never  shook  a  bit.  He  just 
twinkled. 

"Well— hardly,"  he  said. 

The  Lady  looked  pretty  surprised.  When 
she  wasn't  looking  surprised  she  looked 
thoughtful. 

Her  voice  sounded  little  when  she  got  it 
started  again. 

"Maybe — Maybe  I  DO  take  my  responsi 
bilities  too  heavily,"  she  said.  "But  it's  this — 
this  sleeping  business  that  worries  me  so." 

"I  should  think  it  would,"  said  our  Uncle 
Peter. 

"No  Nurse  Maid  will  stay  with  me,"  said 
the  Lady.  "They  say  it  gives  them  the  creeps. 
— It's  enough  to  give  anyone  the  creeps. — A 
[265] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

grown  person  of  course  expects  a  certain 
amount  of  wakefulness,  but  a  child, — a  little 
care-free — heedless  child — ?  Just  when  you 
think  you've  got  him  safely  to  sleep — all  cud 
dled  up  in  your  own  bed  or  even  in  his  own 
bed — and  are  just  drowsing  off  into  the  first 
real  sleep  you've  had  for  a  week — ?  — Patter 
— Patter — Patter  in  the  hall!  Creak— Creak 
— Creak  on  the  stairs!  A  chair  bumped  over 
in  the  Library!  — Bumped  over  on  purpose 
you  understand  1  Just  to  make  a  noise!  'Noises 
are  his  friends,'  he  says.  Why  once — once — " 
The  Lady's  mouth  smiled  a  little.  "Once 
when  I  woke  and  missed  him  and  hunted 
everywhere — I  found  him  at  last  in  the  Pantry 
— on  the  floor — with  his  ear  cuddled  close  up 
to  a  mouse-hole!  Mouse-Nibble  Noises  he 
isays  are  his  special  friends  in  the  middle  of 
the  night  when  there  isn't  anything  else. — 
ANYTHING  to  break  the  silence  it  seems  to 
be!  — Why  in  the  world  should  he  be  afraid 
of  a  Silence?  Nobody  can  account  for  it!" 
[266] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG.  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

"Possibly  not,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.  "Yet 
the  fact  remains  that  either  within  or  just 
outside  the  borders  of  his  consciousness  the 
only  two  people  responsible  for  his  Being 
have  disappeared  unaccountably  into  a  Si 
lence from  which  they  have  not  re 
turned." 

"Oh  dear,"  said  the  Lady.  "I  never  thought 
of  thatl  You  mean  —  You  mean  —  that  per 
haps  he  thinks  that  a  Silence  is  a  Hole  that 
you  might  fall  into  if  you  don't  fill  it  up  with 
a  Noise?  Why  the  poor  little  fellow  I  — How 
in  the  world  is  one  ever  to  tell?  — Oh  dear — 

Oh  dear "     She  sank  back  in  her  chair 

and  floated  her  hands  in  her  lap.  Her  eyes 
looked  as  though  she  was  going  to  cry  again. 
But  she  didn't  cry.  That  is,  not  much.  Mostly 
she  just  sighed.  "It  isn't  as  though  he  was  an 
easy  child  to  understand,"  she  sighed.  "He 
catches  cold  so  easily,  and  mumps  and  every 
thing.  — And  he's  so  irritable.  — He  kicks, — 
he  bites, — he  scratches !" 
[267] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"So  I  have  seen  demonstrated,"  said  our 
Uncle  Peter. 

"Oh,  it's  quite  evident,"  cried  the  Lady, 
"that  you  think  I'm  harsh  with  him! — But 
whatever  in  the  world  would  YOU  do?"  She 
threw  out  her  hands  toward  the  pretty  room, — 
the  rugs, — the  pictures, — the  fire, — the  toys. 
"Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  what  he  NEEDS?" 
she  said. 

"A  good  spanking,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

The  Lady  gave  a  little  gasp. 

"Oh,  not  for  punishment,"  said  our  Uncle 
Peter.  "But  just  for  exercise.  — It's  the  only 
exercise  that  a  lot  of  pampered,  sedentary 
children  ever  get!" 

"P— Pampered?"  gasped  the  Lady.  "S— 
Sed — entary?"  As  though  her  head  was  burst 
ing  with  the  noises  all  around  the  room  she 
clapped  her  hands  over  her  ears. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  jjumped  up  from  his  chair 
and  began  to  chase  the  little  tin  railroad  train. 
It  looked  funny  to  see  so  large  a  man  running 
[268} 


FHE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

after  so  small  a  train.  When  he  caught  it  it 
was  having  a  railroad  accident  in  the  tunnel 
under  the  table  where  a  book  had  fallen  on 
the  track.  Like  a  beetle  with  no  paint  on  its 
stomach  he  left  it  lying  on  its  back  with  its 
little  wheels  kicking  in  the  air. 

"If  only  all  the  racket  was  as  easily  disposed 
:>f  I"  said  the  Lady. 

"It  IS!"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

Like  turning  off  faucets  of  water  he  turned 
off  the  noises  one  by  one, — the  window-breeze 
that  made  the  glass  dangles  tinkle, — the  funny 
jiggly  spring  that  kept  the  toy  bird  screaming 
uHi-Hi"  in  its  wicker  cake, — the  music  box 
that  tooted  horns  and  beat  drums  right  in  the 
middle  of  its  best  tunes!  He  looked  like  a 
giant  stalking  through  the  Noah's  Ark  ani 
mals!  His  foot  was  longer  than  the  village 
store! 

"If  only  I  figured  as  largely  in  a  less  minia 
ture  world!"  he  said. 

He  looked  at  the  Lady  very  hard  when  he 
[269] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

said  it  as  though  he  was  saying  something  very 
important. 

The  Lady  didn't  seem  to  consider  it  im 
portant  at  all.  She  looked  at  her  skirts  instead 
and  smoothed  them  very  tidily. 

"It's  a — It's  a  pleasant  day — isn't  it?"  said 
our  Uncle  Peter. 

"V — very,"  said  the  Lady.  Quite  suddenly 
she  looked  up  at  him.  Her  cheeks  were  pink. 
She  seemed  to  want  to  speak  but  didn't  know 
quite  how.  She  looked  more  surprised  than 
ever.  She  bent  forward  very  suddenly  and 
stared  and  stared  at  him. 

"Why — Why  you're  the  gentleman,"  she 
said,  "who  was  in  the  Fruit  Store  the  day  I 
bought  the  Alligator  pears  and  dropped  my 
pocket-book  down  behind  the  trash-barrel?" 

"Also  the  day  you  bought  the  Red  Mackin 
tosh  Apples,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.  "The 
Grocer  cheated  you  outrageously  on  them. — 
Also  the  day  you  wore  the  bunch  of  white 
violets  and  pricked  your  finger  so  brutally, — 
[270] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

also  the  day  on  the  ferry  when  there  was  a 
slight  collision  with  a  tug-boat  and  I  had  the 
privilege  of — of ." 

The  Lady  looked  very  haughty. 

"It  was  the  day  of  the  Alligator  Pears — 
that  I  referred  to,"  she  said.  "The  only  day 
in  my  recollection!"  Very  positively  she  said 
it, — "the  only  day  in  my  recollection."  But 
all  the  time  that  she  said  it  her  cheeks  got 
pinker  and  pinker.  It  was  when  she  looked 
in  the  glass  and  saw  how  mistaken  her  posi- 
tiveness  looked  that  her  cheeks  got  so  pink. 
Tap — Tap — Tap  her  foot  stamped  on  the  rug. 
"Did — Did  you  know  who  it  was  going  to  be 

when  you  brought  the  dog?"  she  said. 

"That  is, — did  you  know  when  you  first  saw 
the  advertisement  in  the  paper."  Her  white 
forehead  got  all  black  and  frowny.  "How 
in  the  world  did  you  know — my  name?"  she 

said. 

* 

Our  Uncle  Peter  made  an  expression  on  his 
face.    It  was  the  expression  that  our  Mother 
[271] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

calls  his  "Third-Helping-of-Apple-Pie   Ex 
pression," — bold  and  unashamed. 

"I  asked  the  Grocer,"  he  said. 

"It  was  a — a  great  liberty,"  said  the  Lady. 

"Was  it?"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.  He  didn't 
seem  as  sorry  as  you'd  have  expected. 

The  Lady  looked  at  Carol.  The  Lady 
looked  at  me. 

"How  many  children  have  you?"  she  said. 

"None  of  my  own,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 
"But  three  of  my  brother  Philip's, — Carol 
and  Ruthy  as  here  observed,  and  Rosalee  aet. 
eighteen  who  is  at  present  in  Cuba  engaging 
herself  to  be  married." 

"O— h,"  said  the  Lady. 

"I  am  in  short,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter,  "that 
object  of  Romance  and  Pity  popularly  known 
as  a  'Bachelor  Uncle.' ' 

"O — h,"  said  the  Lady.  She  seemed  more 
relieved  than  you'd  have  supposed. 

"But  in  my  own  case,  of  course — "  said  our 
Uncle  Peter. 

[272] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

In  the  very  midst  of  his  own  case  he  stopped 
right  off  short  to  look  all  around  the  room 
again  as  though  he  was  counting  how  heavy 
the  toys  were  and  how  heavy  the  money  was 
that  had  bought  the  toys.  All  the  twinkle 
came  back  to  his  eyes. 

"But  in  my  own  case,"  he  said,  "I've  always 
known  ahead — of  course — for  a  very  long  time 
— that  I  was  going  to  have  'em. — Learned  to 
sit  lightly  on  the  idea, — re-balance  my  pre 
judices, — re-adjust  my — " 

"Have — what?"  gasped  the  Lady. 

"Nephews  and  nieces,"  said  our  Uncle 
Peter. 

"O— h,"  said  the  Lady. 

"Had  their  names  all  selected  I  mean," 
explained  our  Uncle  Peter.  "Their  virtues, 
their  vices,  their  avocations,  all  decided  upon. 

Ruthy  of  course  might  have  done  with 

less  freckles,  and  Carol  here  doesn't  quite  come 

up  to  specifications  yet  concerning  muscle  and 

[273] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

brawn — and  it  was  never  my  original  intention 
of  course  that  any  young  whipper-snapper 
niece  of  mine  should  engage  herself  to  the  first 
boy  she  fell  in  love  with.  — But  taken  all  in 
all,— all  in  all  I  say—" 

"I  think,"  frowned  the  Lady,  "you  are  per 
fectly absurd." 

The  word  "absurd"  didn't  seem  to  be  at  all 
the  word  she  meant  to  say.  She  tried  to  bite 
it  back  but  got  it  all  mixed  up  with  a  little 
giggle.  She  bit  the  giggle  instead.  It  twisted 
her  mouth  like  a  bitter  taste. 

Cur  Uncle  Peter  looked  very  sympathetic. 

"You  ought  to  get  away  somewhere  on  a 
journey,"  he  said.  "There's  nothing  like  it  as 
a  tonic  for  the  mind.  Even  if  it's  a  place 
you  don't  like  very  much  it  clarifies  the  vision 
so, — dissipates  all  one's  minor  worries." 

" — Minor  worries?"  said  the  Lady. 

"Travel!  Yes  that's  the  thing  1"  said  our 
Uncle  Peter  quite  positively.  All  in  a  minute 
he  seemed  to  rustle  with  time  tables  and  maps 
[274] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

and  smell  of  cinders  and  railroad  tickets. 
"Now  there's  Bermuda  for  instance!"  he  sug 
gested.  "Just  a  month  of  blue  waters  and 
white  sand  would  put  the  roses  back  in  your 
cheeks.  — And  Dicky — " 

"Impossible,"  said  the  Lady. 

"Or  if  Bermuda's  too  far,"  insisted  our 
Uncle  Peter.  "What  about  Atlantic  City? 
Think  how  Dicky  would  enjoy  romping  on 
the  board  walk — while  you  followed  more 
sedately  of  course  in  a  luxurious  wheel  chair  I 
— The  most  diverting  place  in  the  world!  — 
Yes  quite  surely  you  must  go  to  Atlantic 
City!" 

The  Lady  made  a  little  gasp  as  though  her 
Patience  was  bursted. 

"You  don't  seem  to  understand,"  she  said. 
"I  tell  you  it's  quite  impossible!" 

"W-H-Y?"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.  He  said 
it  sharply  like  a  Teacher.  It  HAD  to  be 
answered. 

The  Lady  looked  up.  She  looked  down. 
[275] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

She  looked  sideways.  She  wrung  her  hands 
in  her  lap.  Her  face  got  sort  of  white. 

"It  isn't  very  kind  of  you,"  she  said,  "to 
force  me  so  to  a  confession  of  poverty." 

"  'Poverty'?"  laughed  our  Uncle  Peter.  He 
looked  around  at  the  furniture, — at  the  toys, — 
at  the  pictures.  It  was  at  most  everything  that 
he  looked  around.  He  seemed  to  be  very 
cheerful  about  it. 

The  Lady  didn't  like  his  cheerfulness. 

"Oh  I've  always  had  a  little  for  myself,"  she 
explained.  "Enough  for  one  person  to  live 

very  simply  on.  But  NOW ?  With  this 

strange  little  boy  on  my  hands, — I — I  intend 
to  go  to  work!" 

"Go  to work?"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"WORK?"  He  said  it  with  a  sort  of  a  hoot. 
"Work?  Work?  Why,  what  in  the  world 
could  YOU  do?" 

"I  can  crochet,"  said  the  Lady  proudly. 
"And  embroider.  I  can  mend.  I  can  play 
[276] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

the  piano.  And  really  you  know  I  can  make 
the  most  beautiful  pies." 

"Apple  pies,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"Apple  pies,"  said  the  Lady.  Like  a  hand 
ful  of  black  tissue  paper  she  crumpled  up 
suddenly  in  her  chair.  Her  shoulders  shook 
and  shook.  The  sound  she  made  was  like  a 
sob  going  down  and  a  laugh  coming  up.  "I'm 
not  crying,"  she  said,  "because  it's  so  hard — 
but  b — because  the  idea  is  so  f — funny." 

"F — F — Funny?"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 
"It's  preposterous!  It's  gro — tesque!  It's — 
it's  fantastic!" 

He  began,  to  walk  very  fast  from  the  book 
case  to  the  window  and  from  the  window  back 
to  the  book-case  again.  It  wasn't  till  he'd 
stubbed  his  toe  twice  on  a  toy  Ferris  Wheel 
that  the  twinkle  came  back  to  his  eyes. 

"Carol!"  he  said.  "Ruthy!  — In  considera 
tion  of  the  reduced  circumstances  in  which 
this  very  pleasant  Lady  finds  herself  don't  you 
think  that  you  could  afford  to  offer  her  a  re- 
[277] 


FAIRY  PRINCE  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

duced  price  on  the  dog, — your  original  profit 
on  the  deal  being  as  noted  $49.50?" 

The  Lady  jumped  to  her  feet. 

"Oh  no — no — no!"  she  said.  "Not  for  a 
moment!  Fifty  dollars  is  what  I  offered! 
And  fifty  dollars  it  shall  be!  All  dogs  I'm 
sure  are  worth  fifty  dollars.  Especially  if 
they  don't  sleep!  Why  all  the  other  dogs 
that  people  brought  me  did  nothing  except 
sleep!  On  my  sofas!  In  my  chairs!  Under 
my  tables!  Night  or  day  you  couldn't  drop 
even  so  much  as  a  handkerchief  on  the  floor 
that  one  or  the  other  of  them  didn't  camp 
right  down  and  go  to  sleep  on  it!  Oh,  no — 
no — no,"  protested  the  Lady,  "whatever  my 
faults,  a  bargain  is  a  bargain  and " 

"Whatever  your  faults,  my  dear  Madam," 
said  our  Uncle  Peter,  "they  are  essentially 
feminine  and  therefore  enchanting!  It  is 
only  when  ladies  ape  the  faults  of  men  that 
men  resent  the  same!  — Your  extravagant  in- 
dulgency — "  he  bowed  towards  the  toys — 
[278] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG.  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

"your  absolute  innocence  of  all  business 
guile — "  he  bowed  towards  Tiger  Lily — 
"nerves  strung  so  exquisitely  that  the  slightest 
— the  slightest — " 

The  Lady  shivered  her  clothes  like  a  black 
frost. 

"It  was  advice  that  I  was  looking  for,  not 
compliments,"  she  said. 

"Oh  ho!"  said  Uncle  Peter.  "I'm  in 
finitely  more  adept  with  advice  than  I  am 
with  compliments!" 

The  Lady  looked  a  little  bit  surprised.  She 
frowned. 

"It's  my  little  boy  that  I  want  advice 
about,"  she  said.  "What  IS  the  best  thing 
I  can  do  for  him?" 

Our  Uncle  Peter  looked  at  the  ceiling.  He 
looked  at  the  rug.  He  looked  at  the  pictures 
on  the  wall.  But  it  seemed  to  satisfy  him  most 
to  look  at  the  Lady's  face. 

"U — m — m,"  he  said.  "U — m — mmmm. 
— That  isn't  an  easy  question  to  "answer  un- 
[279] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

less  you're  willing  first  to  answer  a  question 
of  mine." 

"Ask  any  question  you  want  to,"  said  the 
Lady. 

"U — m — m,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter  all  over 
again.  "U — m — m —  Um — m — m —  U — m 
— m.  It  takes  a  great  deal  of  patience,"  said 
our  Uncle  Peter,  "to  bring  up  a  little  boy. 
— Unless  every  time  he's  naughty  you  can  say 
to  yourself  'Well,  even  so — think  what  a  good 

man  his  Father  grew  to  be!' Or  every  time 

he's  good  you're  fair  enough  to  admit  that 
'Even  his  naughty  Father  was  once  as  nice  as 

this !'  " All  the  twinkle  went  suddenly 

out  of  our  Uncle  Peter's  eyes.  It  left  them 
looking  narrow.  He  made  a  quick  glance  at 
Carol.  He  made  a  quick  glance  at  me.  He 
seemed  very  pleased  that  we  were  so  busy 
looking  at  a  map  of  Bermuda.  He  stepped  a 
little  nearer  to  the  Lady.  His  voice  sounded 
funny.  "Were  you — were  you  very  fond  of 
the  little  boy's  Father?"  he  said. 
[280] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

The  Lady's  face  went  blazing  like  a  flame 
out  of  her  black  clothes.  It  was  like  a  white 
flame  that  it  went  blazing.  Her  eyes  looked 
screaming. 

"How  dare  you?"  she  said.  "You  have  no 
business!  — What  if  I  was?  — What  if  I 
wasn't?"  All  the  scream  in  her  eyes  fell  down 
her  throat  into  a  whipser.  "Suppose — Sup 
pose— I—WASN'T?"  she  whispered. 

"Then  indeed  I  CAN  give  you  advice," 
said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

The  Lady  reached  out  a  hand  to  the  book 
case  to  make  herself  more  steady. 

"What — what  is  it?"  she  said. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  looked  funnier  and  fun 
nier.  It  wasn't  like  Christmas  that  he  looked. 
Nor  Fourth  of  July.  Nor  even  like  when 
we've  got  the  mumps  or  the  measles.  It  was 
like  Easter  Sunday  that  he  looked!  There 
was  no  twinkle  in  it.  Nor  any  smoke.  Nor 
even  paper  dolls.  But  just  SHINING- 
NESS  !  His  voice  was  all  SHININGNESS 
[281] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

too! — If  it  hadn't  been  you  never  could  have 
heard  it  'cause  he  made  his  words  so  little. 

"It's  almost  a  year  now,"  he  said,  "since  our 
eyes  first  met.  — You've  tried  your  best  to  hide 
from  me — but  you  couldn't  do  it.  — Fate  had 
other  ideas  in  mind. — A  chance  encounter  on 
the  street, — that  day  on  the  ferry  boat, — your 
funny  little  dog-advertisement  in  the  paper?" 

Quite  suddenly  our  Uncle  Peter  straight 
ened  up  like  a  soldier  and  spoke  right  out  loud 
again. 

"About  your  little  boy,"  he  said,  "my  advice 
about  your  little  boy?  — It  being  indeed  so 
well-nigh  impossible,  Madam,  for  a  woman  to 
bring  up  a  little  boy  very  successfully  unless 
— she  did  love  his  Father, — my  advice  to  you 
is  that  without  the  slightest  unnecessary  delay 
you  proceed  to  get  him  a  Father  whom  you 
COULD  love!" 

Whereupon,  as  people  always  say  in  books, 
our  Uncle  Peter  turned  upon  his  heel  and 
started  for  the  door. 

[282] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

The  Lady  swooned  into  her  chair. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  had  to  get  a  glass  of  water 
to  un-swoon  her. 

I  ran  for  a  fan.  It  bursted  my  garter.  When 
our  Uncle  Peter  tried  to  mend  it  he  swore 
instead. 

The  Lady  came  out  of  her  swoon  without 
an  instant's  hesitation. 

"Here  at  least,"  she  said,  "is  something  that 
I  know  enough  to  do." 

Her  mouth  was  full  of  scorn  and  pins.  It 
was  with  pins  that  she  knew  enough  to  do  it. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  looked  very  humble. 

The  Lady  patted  my  knees. 

"Little  girls  are  so  much  easier  to  manage 
than  little  boys,"  she  said.  "I  don't  seem  to 
understand  little  boys." 

"Nor  big  boys  either!"  said  our  Uncle 
Peter.  He  said  it  with  gruffness.  It  sounded 
cross. 

"Perhaps  I  —  don't  want  to  understand 
them,"  said  the  Lady. 

[283] 


FAIRY   PRINCE   AND   OTHER    STORIES 

Our  Uncle  Peter's  cheeks  got  sort  of  red. 

"Suit  yourself,  my  dear  Madam,"  he  said 
and  started  for  the  door.  He  picked  up  my 
hat  and  put  it  on  Carol's  head.  — Carol's  head 
looked  pretty  astonished.  He  took  Carol's 
cap  and  put  it  on  my  head.  He  handed  us 
our  coats  upside  down.  — All  our  pennies  and 
treasures  fell  out  on  the  floor.  He  snatched 
up  the  little  boy's  gloves  by  mistake  and  thrust 
them  into  his  own  pockets. 

The  Lady  collected  everything  again  and 
re-distributed  them.  She  seemed  to  think  it 
was  funny.  Not  very  funny  but  just  a  little. 
She  looked  at  Carol  sort  of  specially. 

"Oh  my  dear  Child,"  she  said.  "I  hope 
you  didn't  mind  because  Dicky  called  you  a 
'Silence'?" 

Carol  did  mind.  He  minded  very  much. 
I  could  tell  by  the  way  he  carried  his  ears. 
They  looked  very  stately.  Our  Uncle  Peter 
whirled  round  in  the  door-way.  His  ears 
looked  pretty  stately  too. 
[284] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

"All  the  men  in  our  family,"  he  said,  "aim 
to  meet  the  exigencies  of  life — sensibly." 

The  Lady  seemed  to  consider  the  fact  quite 
a  long  time  before  she  smiled  again. 

"Oh  very  well,"  she  said.  "If  the  Uncle 
really  is  as  sensible  as  the  nephew  perhaps  he 
will  consent  to  leave  the  children  here  with 
me  to-night — instead  of  bearing  them  off  to 
the  confusion  and  general  mis-button-ness  of 
hotels." 

Our  Uncle  Peter's  face  fairly  burst  into 
relief. 

"Oh,  do  you  really  mean  that?"  he  cried. 
"It  IS  their  infernal  buttons  that  makes  most 
of  the  worry!  — And  their  prayers?  — What 
IS  the  difference  anyway  between  a  morning 
and  an  evening  prayer?  — And  this  awful  re 
sponsibility  about  cereals?  And  how  in  the 
world  do  you  make  sure  about  their  necks?" 

"Oh  those  are  the  things  I  know  perfectly," 
said  the  Lady.  "All  the  nice  gentle  indoor 
things." 

[285] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

Our  Uncle  Peter  began  to  strut  again. 

"Oh  pshaw!"  he  said.  "It's  only  the  out 
door  things  that  are  really  important, — how 
to  climb  mountains,  how  to  stop  a  runaway 
horse, — how  to  smother  a  grass  fire  I" 

It  put  the  Lady  all  in  a  flutter. 

"Oh  pshaw!"  said  our  Uncle  Peter.  "That's 
nothing!  — The  very  first  instant  you  hear  the 
maddened  hoofs  on  the  pavement  you  place 
yourself  thus !  And  THUS !  —And " 

The  Lady  tried  to  explain  to  him  the 
difference  between  a  morning  and  an  even 
ing  prayer.  "Now  at  night,  of  course,"  she 
explained,  "everything  is  50  very  lonely 
that—" 

Our  Uncle  Peter  didn't  seem  to  care  at  all 
how  lonely  it  was. 

"The  instant  you  see  the  horses's  blood-red 
nostrils, — JUMP!"  cried  our  Uncle  Peter. 

It  sounded  pretty  muddled  to  me. 

"Personally,"  insisted  the  Lady,  "I  consider 
a  rather  soft  sponge  best  for  the  neck." 
[286] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

"So  that  with  your  hands  clutched  like  a 
vise  on  either  side  of  the  mouth,"  cried  our 
Uncle  Peter,  "you  can  saw  up  and  down  with 
all  the  violence  at  your  command!  Now  in 
fighting  a  grass  fire,  it's  craft,  not  might,  that 
you  need.  In  that  case  of  course — " 

"Two  hours  if  you're  using  a  double  boil 
er,"  explained  the  Lady,  "but  many  people 
consider  a  rapider  action  more  digestible,  I 
suppose." 

"My  dear  Lady let  me  finish  my  ex 
planation!"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

"But  I  want  to  finish  mine!"  said  the  Lady. 

Our  legs  got  pretty  tired  waiting  for  all 
the  explanations  to  get  un-mixed  up  again. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  before  the  Lady  gave 
our  Uncle  Peter  a  cup  of  hot  chocolate  and 
turned  him  out  doors. 

"Just  like  a  dog,"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 
We  heard  him  say  it  across  his  shoulder  as 
he  went  down  the  steps. 

It  made  the  Lady  laugh  a  little. 
[287] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

It  was  warm  milk  in  two  great  blue  bowls 
that  she  gave  us.  "Just  like  kittens,"  we 
thought  it  was ! 

We  heard  the  little  boy's  feet  come  thud- 
thud-thudding  up  the  stairs.  We  heard  Tiger 
Lily's  toe-nails  click-click-click  along  behind 
him. 

The  little  boy  looked  very  full  of  chicken 
and  joyfulness.  So  did  Tiger  Lily. 

"Cook  says  I've  got  to  romp  him!"  he  said. 
"Every  day!  — Twice  every  day!  — More'n 
a  hundred  times  some  days!  Out  doors  too! 
Not  just  in  parks, — parks  are  good  enough 
for  cats,  —  but  in  real  fields!  Else  he'll 
DIE  I"  Almost  as  though  he  was  frightened 
he  stooped  down  suddenly  and  laid  his  little 
ear  on  Tiger  Lily's  soft  breast.  "He's  alive 
now!"  he  boasted.  "You  can  hear  his  heart 
nibbling!"  He  threw  back  his  little  head  and 
laughed  and  laughed  and  clapped  his  hands. 
He  took  Tiger  Lily  by  the  collar  and  led  him 
over  to  the  table  by  the  window.  He  climbed 
[288] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

up  on  the  table  and  pulled  Tiger  Lily  after 
him. 

Tiger  Lily  was  frightened,  but  not  too 
much.  He  felt  proud.  His  ears  looked  fluffy. 
His  back  was  shining  silk.  His  tail  hung 
down  across  the  edge  of  the  table  like  a  plume. 

Far  off  in  the  city  streets  somewhere  there 
was  a  noise  that  trolly  cars  make  when  they're 
climbing  up  a  hill  and  the  switch  is  too  hard 
for  them.  It  was  a  sour  sound. 

Tiger  Lily  started  to  make  a  little  quiver  in 
his  back.  The  little  boy  threw  his  arm  around 
him.  A  mouse  nibbled  in  the  wall.  Tiger 
Lily  cocked  his  head  to  listen  but  kissed  the 
little  boy's  cheek  instead.  It  was  a  nice  kiss. 
But  wet.  The  little  boy  laughed  right  out 
loud.  Way  down  on  the  very  tip  end  of  Tiger 
Lily's  plumey  tail  about  two  hairs  wagged. 
When  the  little  boy  saw  it  his  face  went  all 
shining.  He  threw  both  arms  around  Tiger 
Lily's  neck.  "T— Tiger  Lily's— little  boy!" 
he  said.  "T — T — "  Something  funny  hap- 
[289] 


FAIRY  PRINCE  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

pened  to  his  mouth.  It  was  a  teeny-weeny 
yawn  that  didn't  seem  to  know  just  what  to 
do  about  it.  Nothing  in  all  the  world  felt 
lonely  any  more. 

Except  me. 

The  Lady  put  me  to  bed. 

Carol  put  himself  to  bed  all  except  the 
knots  in  his  shoestrings. 

We  went  to  sleep. 

Pretty  soon  it  was  morning.  And  we  went 
home. 

Our  Uncle  Peter  changed  a  lot  of  our  dog- 
money  into  nickles  so  it  would  jingle.  We 
sounded  like  cow-bells.  It  felt  rich.  Our 
Uncle  Peter  held  us  very  tight  by  the  hands 
all  the  way.  He  said  he  was  afraid  we  might 
step  into  something  wet  and  sink. 

It  had  been  Wednesday  when  we  went 
away.  It  was  only  Thursday  when  we  got 
home.  It  seemed  later  than  that. 

Our  Mother  was  very  glad  to  see  us.  So 
was  our  Father. 

[290] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

The  Tame  Crow  flew  down  out  of  the 
Maple  Tree  and  sat  on  Carol's  head. 

Our  Tame  Coon  came  out  of  the  hole  under 
the  piazza  and  sniffed  at  our  heels. 

The  posie  bed  in  front  of  the  house  was 
blue  with  violets.  The  white  Spirea  bush 
foamed  like  a  wave  against  the  wood-shed 
window. 

In  spite  of  our  absence  nothing  seemed 
changed. 

We  gave  our  Father  a  dollar  of  our  money 
to  buy  some  Tulips.  We  gave  our  Mother  a 
dollar  to  spend  any  way  she  wanted  to.  We 
put  the  rest  of  it  in  a  book.  It  was  a  Savings 
Bank  Book  that  we  put  it  into. 

"For  your  old  age,"  our  Father  said. 

Our  Father's  eyes  had  twinkles  in  them. 

"I  hope  you've  thanked  your  Uncle  Peter 
properly!"  he  said. 

"For  what?"  said  our  Uncle  Peter. 

Our  Father  jingled  the  twenty  nickles  in  his 
hand.    "For  all  favors,"  he  said. 
[291] 


FAIRY   PRINCE    AND   OTHER    STORIES 

Our  Uncle  Peter  said  he  was  perfectly  re 
paid.  He  made  a  frown  at  my  Father. 

When  bed-time  came  I  climbed  up  into  my 
Mother's  lap  and  told  her  all  about  it, — the 
house, — the  cocoa, — the  toy  Ferris  Wheel, — 
the  blue  daisies  on  the  stair  carpet,  —  the 
pigeon  that  lit  on  my  window-sill  in  the  morn 
ing, — the  splashy  way  Tiger  Lily  lapped  his 
milk. 

"It  will  be  interesting,"  said  my  Mother, 
"to  see  what  we  hear  from  Tiger  Lily  as  Time 
goes  on." 

Time  went  on  pretty  quickly.  Pansies  hap 
pened  and  yellow  poppies  and  ducks  and  two 
kittens  and  August. 

It  wasn't  till  almost  Autumn  that  we  ever 
heard  from  Tiger  Lily  or  the  little  boy  again. 

When  the  letter  came  it  was  from  the  little 
boy.  But  it  was  the  Lady  who  wrote  it. 

We  thought  her  writing  would  be  all 
black  and  sorrowful.  But  it  was  violet-col 
ored  instead,  with  all  the  ends  of  her  letters 
[292] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

quirked  up  with  surprise  like  her  face,  only 
prancier. 

"My  dear  little  friends,"  wrote  the 
Lady,  "Dicky  wishes  me  to  tell  you 
how  much  we  enjoyed  your  delight 
ful  visit,  and  to  say  that  Tiger  Lily 
is  a  sweet  dog.  He  thinks  you  are 
mistaken  about  Tiger  Lily  not  hunt 
ing.  Tiger  Lily  hunts  very  well  he 
says, — 'only  different'  It's  mice,  he 
wants  me  to  tell  you,  that  Tiger  Lily 
is  very  fierce  about.  And  bugs  of  any 
sort.  All  in-door  hunting  in  fact. 
Certainly  our  wood-boxes  and  our 
fire-places  have  been  kept  absolutely 
free  of  mice  this  entire  season.  And 
Cook  says  that  not  a  June  Bug  has 
survived.  Truly  it's  very  gratifying. 
Also  Dicky  wants  me  to  tell  you  that 
there's  a  field.  It's  got  a  brook  in  it 
where  you  can  sail  boats  and  every 
thing.  It's  most  a  mile.  This  is  all 
for  this  time  Dicky  says. 

"With  affectionate  regards,  I  am, 
etc. " 

Our  Mother  looked  up  across  the  top  of  the 
letter.    It  was  at  my  Father  that  she  looked. 
[293] 


FAIRY    PRINCE    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"Poor  dear  Lady,"  she  said.  "I  hope  she's 
happier  now.  It's  that  Mrs.  Harnon,  you 
know.  Her  marriage  was  so  unfortunate  to 
that  dreadful  Harnon  man." 

"U — m — m,"  said  my  Father. 

We  read  the  letter  over  and  over  waiting 
for  the  next  one  and  wondering  about  Tiger 
Lily. 

There  wasn't  any  next  one  till  most  Thanks 
giving.  When  it  came  at  last  it  was  Dicky's 
letter  just  the  same,  but  it  was  written  in  our 
Uncle  Peter's  handwriting  this  time.  It 
seemed  funny.  But  perhaps  the  Lady's  hand 
was  lame  and  she  advertised  for  help.  — Our 
Uncle  Peter  reads  all  the  newspapers. 

The  letter  was  awful  short.  And  there 
weren't  any  quirks  in  it  or  anything.  Just 
ink.  This  is  what  it  said: 

"Mutts: 

Tiger    Lily's    got   nine    puppies. 
We're  sleeping  fine. 

Dicky." 

[294] 


THE  LITTLE  DOG  WHO  COULDN'T  SLEEP 

Our  Mother  looked  at  our  Father.  Our 
Father  looked  at  our  Mother.  They  both 
looked  at  the  letter  again. 

"My  brother  Peter's  hand-writing  just  as 
sure  as  you're  born!"  said  my  Father. 

"Of  course  it's  Peter's  writing,"  said  our 
Mother.  Her  cheeks  were  quite  pink.  "Well 
of  all  the  unexpected  romances — "  she  said. 

"Whose?"  I  said. 

"Tiger  Lily's,"  said  my  Father.  He  seemed 
to  be  in  an  awful  hurry  to  say  it. 

I  looked  at  my  Mother.  Her  eyes  were 
shining. 

"Is  a — Is  a  'Romance'  a  something  that  you 
make  a  story  out  of?"  I  said. 

"Yes  it  is,"  said  my  Mother. 

I  thought  of  my  gold  pencil. 

"Oh,  all  right,"  I  said,  "when  I  get  tall 
enough  and  more  spelly  I'll  make  a  little  story 
about  it." 

"You  already  have !"  said  my  Mother. 

[295] 


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